Changeling
by silverfingers
Summary: TOD spoilers. Holly's gone, changed to human. If she wants Root back, her mysterious transformers have told her she must hide out on the surface.But Artemis, Trouble and Mulch are going to find her and solve this, with help from friends old and new.
1. Prologue

Howdy, y'all! It's the start of another story, and I hope you like it. For anyone who's read 'The Luck of the Irish' I am NOT, repeat, am NOT giving up on it. I can handle multiple stories at once.  
...Right?

Disclaimer: The brilliant Artemis Fowl books, with which I amobsessed (but in a good way), belong to Eoin Colfer. All else is mine. MINE! Also, not reviewing is like stealing from the author (me). Don't make me come over there. Here's the chapter.

Trouble Kelp half-walked, half- carried Holly Short to her door. When she had started getting dizzy, the only doctor in Police Plaza had been Jerval Argon, who although he was just a psychologist, had been able to diagnose fairy influenza. Ark Sool had then come by and started getting on Trouble and Foaly's case for allowing a civilian in the Ops booth. (Holly had come by to see if Foaly could help her out with a tough case.) She had wound up getting dizzy and staggering into Sool. After trying as hard as he could to prove that she was intoxicated and failing, Sool had ordered Trouble to take Holly home. Trouble curbed his urge to hit Sool and did as he was told- after all, Holly was his friend, and she wasn't doing too well. Still, when Ark Sool looked at Holly and curled his lip like that, Trouble felt both his own lip and his fists curling-

"Holly, you OK?"

"Shmrpt," was the muffled reply.

"What's that? Holly, I'm not leaving until you answer me." Holly looked up, exasperated and exhausted.

"I'm not dying, Trouble-" A phone rang somewhere in the recesses of her tunnel home. Holly let out a groan.

"I have to get that, and then I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Who is it?"

"Mulch. You know, for the PI case work. I asked him to check for leads in the criminal underworld. My head's spinning-" Holly slumped to the floor. Trouble dropped to his knees next to her.

"HOLLY!"

"I'm fine," she said in a weak voice. "My legs just gave out. Can you help me to my room? And call Mulch and tell him I can't work tonight? And then please call my mom? I need some soup." Trouble dispatched Holly in her room, returned Mulch's message , and upon calling her mother, left a message on Vivian Short's answering machine.  
("Hi, this is Viv. I'm either not here right now or else I'm avoiding you. Sing your song at the beep. _beep_")  
Holly was chatty and reassuring enough, but Trouble was still kind of worried. It wasn't like Holly to voluntarily decide to take a day off. When she'd had fairy influenza a decade ago, she hadn't gone home until she accidentally threw up in Julius Root's cigar case and he had yelled his head off, then ordered her to take some leave. She had been so sure she was going to get fired for that one, seeing as it was right after the Hamburg incident. Thinking about his old commander, Trouble sighed. Julius Root's loss had been barely a couple months ago, and it still stung. He really had been a father to them all. It had to be twice as hard for Holly, though- she didn't have a father anyway, and then she hadn't been allowed to attend Root's funeral. As much of a funeral as you could have without a body, anyways. It had been completely incinerated. So much for flameproof suits. Major Kelp shook his head and locked the door behind him.

Holly tossed and turned, fully dressed, on her sheets. In her dream she was sitting in a tree, under the sun. Now she was at Fowl Manor as the full moon hung in the air. Now she was in the tunnel where Julius died. Gazing around her, she choked back a sob. The wound was still so fresh-

"You miss him, don't you?" She turned around. The source of the high, fluting voice was a-something- sitting on a rock. It was about two feet tall, but didn't look completely like a child. It had weak-looking limbs like a pixie's and a face like a fairy child's-except for the eyes. These were crafty, clever eyes that when she woke up, she would realize reminded her of Opal Koboi's but with none of the self-absorbed madness. This specimen had pale skin. Paler even than Artemis Fowl's, and he actually glowed in certain lights. It's hair was white as snow, but still only a few shades lighter than it's complexion. Those eyes, however, were first purple, now blue, now steel gray. She couldn't quite decide which it was. The hair curled down past its shoulders, and that plus the delicacy of its features made it impossible to tell its sex. It didn't look like any fairy race that Holly knew of, and was wearing clothing made of a delicate silver cloth she'd never before seen in her life. It was the same shade as a Tunnel Blue spider. She wondered idly, dreamily, if this thing was some type of human.

"No, not a human," said the creature in a high, again almost giggly, tone. "Do I look like a human to you?" Holly shook her head, not realizing she hadn't actually spoken out loud. The action flicked a teardrop off her cheek and onto the hard, scorched rock. The creature giggled. "It's true. You miss Julius. Did you carry out his last order? We know he gave you one. What was it? You can tell me."

"Keep Artemis safe. Yes, I did." The creature tittered again.

"Who's Artemis?" It asked playfully. Holly smiled at the memory of her friend. She would have wondered about how this strange creature knew all this, but it was just a dream. A fever dream. It's not like it was real, and it certainly wasn't as if she was thinking the way she normally did-she was dreaming, after all. She could answer safely.

"He's my friend. My consultant. He helps me. He kidnapped me once, but he's going straight now. Kind of, anyways." Holly got a momentary snap of clarity-**Why is it asking this? Why am I telling it? Is this a normal dream? I shouldn't be taking about Artemis like this to people we don't know- **

"But who is he, really?" The figure pressed. "Tell me more."

_In her apartment, Holly Short tosses and turns, turns and tosses as she dreams. Sheets are soaked with sweat, then kicked off the futon altogether, as her body temperature rises. Suddenly, though there is no visible injury, blue sparks of her magic erupt and play along her slim frame. A high chuckling fills the air, then grows louder and louder, reaching near maniacal intensity, then stops. A chanting fills the air as her figure blurs._

"So that's who Artemis is. He sounds very interesting. But lets talk about other things." The little whatever-it-was hopped onto a different rock. Holly started to get anxious without knowing why. She couldn't concentrate. The creature spoke again, in the same playful tones, but this time Holly caught a sense of urgency behind them.

"You'd do anything to get Julius back, wouldn't you?" A little more insistently. "Wouldn't you?" Holly nodded feverishly.

"Would you? Would you really? Anything to get Julius back?" The voice was not just emanating from the creature in front of her anymore. It was all around her, in the air, echoing from the tunnel walls, more than one voice.

Now she saw shadows of herself and Julius in this very tunnel, the bomb strapped to his chest. She saw it explode again, hazily, as tears blurred her eyes. They ran down her cheeks. Of course she'd like him back, she thought as she shook her head angrily to clear her vision. He was like her father to her. To all of them. She'd been trying to keep her spirits up, but-

"Yes," she spoke to a tunnel that was suddenly quiet as the grave. "Yes. I would do anything. We all would."

"We?" The creature was gone, but she heard it's voice clearly in her head. Holly was getting angry that her emotions were being played with this way by someone who had no right to probe her. Her tears were rapidly evaporating.

"Yes. We. Me, Artemis, Trouble, Foaly, even Mulch Diggums has more or less said he misses the old commander. We. There's others, of course, including everybody in the LEP with the possible exception of that rat Sool, but right now, I'd like a little information about who you are. What gives you the right to interrogate me like this?" She looked around for the creature. But the tunnel was quiet, and this time, it seemed, the being was truly gone.

Thirteen thousand miles away, the Mud Boy know to the People as ' # $ $', ' that Mud Boy', and, more usually, 'Artemis Fowl' fell over in a dead faint. Within a few minutes, however, he was awake and had successfully diagnosed himself with heatstroke. The school nurse accepted this, finding it easier-much easier- to agree with Artemis than to argue with him. (Many teachers, alas, had yet to pick up on this.) His parents were notified, but all in all, the Irish boy seemed quite fine after that. It was probably just the hot noonday sun. Artemis was cautioned to be a little more careful when it came to staying hydrated, and the records note that were to be no further relapses that term.


	2. Holly

Thanks to: Iwuvmykenshypoo, me obviously( I'm afraid it isn't obvious, though),aperfectattitude (your wish is my command), lilacpurple (PPBBBTTTHHH), On Wongs Of reams (pretty pn), absolute power and genuis. The AP: No, the white thing is NOT the changeling. It should become apparent in this chappie. And genuis: Ark Sool is one of Colfer's. He's that nasty Internal Affairs guy who took Root's job, I can't BELIEVE you don't remember him, he's so...urgh.

Special Thanks To: Reviwer 16: Redwren, who pointed out that I had the Italian guys calling Holly 'Senora' in the origonal version of this chapter. (It's supposed to be 'Signora') So I replaced the chappie text-this is actually version 2 of this chapter.

Disclaimer: Own naught, sue not!

Cold.

Dark.

Wet.

The human woman was too far underwater. Far too far. She would never make it to the surface in time to breathe. She'd woken up many feet under. She never had a chance. And in any case, she was miles from land and didn't even know which ocean she was in. At least it wasn't as cold as the Artic waters she'd once been in, a long time ago.

Although she'd been in them for a much shorter time. It looked like she was going to be in this ocean for the rest of her life (I.e. not very long) She struggled onward, but it was dark, too, and she didn't really know which way was up. She let herself sink. Then started to thrash again. If she had been sinking _that _way, then _that_ was down and air was in the opposite direction. And she needed air. Desperately. Meanwhile, her mind wrestled with the question: _How did I get here? _It didn't wrestle for very long, however. Oxygen deprivation was taking its toll. Her last thought was: _Air…_

The dolphins heard her struggles. The dolphins know when one of their own is in trouble. This woman was what the dolphins thought of as _callers_. As almost-dolphins, as beings who, when they flew, called out to the dolphins from their hearts. The dolphins always came up to play. And now one was calling, but she was in the water.

Some things don't belong in the water. The dolphins don't know why they insist on being there anyways, except for maybe that they love the water. That's okay. The dolphins love it too. This caller, however, didn't want to be in the water, was in trouble in the water. The pod moved towards the swimmer, echolocating. They swam around her as she sank, confused. The alpha male and femal dolphins tried to lift her back towards the surface. Suddenly, they were aware of a much larger presence behind them.

The huge humpback whale lifted the human woman towards the surface whil the dolphins clicked their thanks and worries around it. They could hear her heartbeat. But she was like a sister dolphin who has slammed into a big mover, which is one of those noisy smelly things that move too fast on top of the water and never even stop to hunt fish. That is, the woman was not moving, not clicking, not conscious. The dolphins and the whale started to push the human woman into shore, as more of the whale's podmates showed up, crooning their calls into the night.

It was morning by the time the sea creatures had pushed Holly close enough to land for the surf to wash her up onto a rocky beach. They stayed just offshore, waiting to see what would happen to her. _She was big for a caller, _said the alpha female of the group. _They are usually small, and they fly. _

_A caller is a caller, _replied her mate_. We like the callers. _

She was tired. So tired. Her limbs were like lead. She'd felt like this before…mmmlp, yes she had…it was because of …because of…Artemis…tranquilizer dart?

Holly sat bolt upright in the hospital bed, terrified she'd been kidnapped again. She bit back a scream. She was in…some kind of white room…no concretre cell...a medical clinic? What was that beeping? Ah. She appeared to be hooked into diagnostic machines. Big, clunky, human-looking diagnostic machines. How long had she been here? She stared as a human nurse, preoccupied with a clipboard, walked by outside the open door.

Holly had no clue what was going on, except this was a very human place. _She had been kidnapped by humans and was being used for medical experiments? _

This time, Holly brought three nurses, several doctors and a few random assistants running with her feral shriek. The nurse did her best to soothe the frightened, angry, and confused woman.

"There there, dear. You've just had a bit of a fright, that's all-" The kindly woman was elbowed out of the way by doctors.

"We weren't sure you were going to make it-severe hypothermia, oxygen deprivation, deep-pressure sickness-"

"-Dehydration, jellyfish stings, respiratory system flooding-"

"A fisherman found you on the beach-"

"We need a birthplace and signature on these forms-" The fourth doctor was checking her wrist for her pulse.

"Weak but definitely getting stronger, about 95 beats per minutes, might have to authorize meds-"

"We may not be able to let you go for awhile-" They were speaking another Latin-based language. Italian, Holly realized dimly. So, she was in Italy. Why weren't they commenting on, oh, the fact that _she was of an entirely different species?_ Wait a minute-

The doctors stopped talking as the woman in the bed stared at her hands, looking at them from all angles. Slowly, slowly, her hand trembling like a leaf in a gale, she reached up and felt her ear. She ran her long, tapered fingers around its perfect, rounded, seashell curve. Before anyone could stop her, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her- a suddenly haunted-looking young woman, with nut-brown skin, about twenty or thirty years old. She was very pretty, with Cupid-bow lips, wide, frantic-looking hazel eyes and an auburn buzz cut. Heightwise, she was about 5'10". She turned around.

"Excuse me," she said in perfect Italian, using her gift of tongues. "I need to use the facilities." With that, she locked herself in the restroom. Two of the doctors started arguing about who had scared the pretty young patient off. The third decided to put a call through to the psych ward to expect to perform a thorough check up of new patient No. ICU-4205 in the afternoon.

Holly sat shakily on top of the human toilet seat, (her normal disgust over human plumbing facilities was taking a backseat today), head in her hands. Her human head in her-no getting around it- human hands. It had to be a bad dream. Just a nightmare, after all. Like that thing with the-the-the _whatever_ that had asked about Julius. Wait a minute, thought Holly. It asked if I'd do anything to get him back. Maybe this is it?

Nah, replied her sane side. What this is, is too much beetle pizza before bedtime. Plus the flu.

Oh really. That explains why you can clearly feel the itchy, salt-encrusted…crustiness on your skin. And your wrist stings from whatever needles they stuck in you. And your legs hurts from that stupid jellyfish. And you feel like you're on stilts. Gods, how do they stand being this tall? She shook her head vigorously, in hopes of clearing it. Look. Either you're having a fever dream, in which case it won't hurt anything to play along. Because in the million-to-one that it's not a fever dream, you actually _need_ to play along to avoid exposing the People to the humans.

The doctors were banging on the door.

"_Signora_, are you okay? Signora, now that you're conscious, we need your insurance provider and the name of a family member or friend who can check you out of the hospital." There was more Italian yelling going on in the background. Holly rubbed her eyes.

Ok, if this isn't some crazy nightmare, than you can get ahold of Artemis. He'll be able to quite logically explain how you're nuts. Also pay for this hospital bill. He knows the human world. In the event that this is all really happening, he can probably even find a way to get you back to normal.

"No!" Holly jumped, then looked around for the source of the squeaky shout. Yes, the creature was here. The odd, pale one with the shifting eyes who had started it all. She glared at it.

"You can't call Artemis. I'm very sorry." Wet, tired and freaked-out combined to produce anger. Holly bared her teeth.

"And why can't I call Artemis?" Holly couldn't see it, but the thing thought _very_ fast to come up with an answer.

"Because, Silly, you can't. You said you'd do anything to get Julius back. Well, this is it. And you don't get help. Do you like being human?" Holly growled.

"No. Why did you try to kill me?" The thing smiled.

"Are you dead?"

"No-o-o"

"So obviously we didn't. We're sorry about the water, but the dolphins had fun. It was an accident." When Holly didn't say anything and merely glared angrily, the creature suddenly tilted (his? Her?) head back and started to bawl. Loudly. There was a pounding on the door.

"**Miss? Are you all right in there?" **

"Shh! Shh! Stop crying!" The thing cried harder.

"We…we only wanted to help you," it sniffled. "You wanted him back, and we wanted to help…but we can't just do it, somebody has to make a sacrifice…I thought you liked Julius. I thought he was like a father to you…"

"He was! Stop crying…" Holly sighed in frustration, but her heart was racing. Was Julius really back?

"It doesn't have to be permanent…but you can't-"

"I won't call Artemis for help," Holly said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. She could hear more doctors outside.

"**Michelle, you sure you don't have the keys? Okay. Renaldo, try the handle. _Try the handle, _man, it won't bite you-" **They were coming in. Well, after they realized the door was locked, Quickly, she hissed to the creature.

"What do I do up here? I need money, at least." It had already ceased sobbing and was looking at her with an expression of relief.

"Oh.. Th-that's easy. We've got a checking account all set up. Here's your wallet. Credit cards, checkbook, currency." Holly had no idea what a check was, but she grabbed it anyways.

"**Ready? On 'three', we break down the door. Angelo, you give the signal-"**

"Last question," Holly hissed furiously. "How do I know you're telling me the truth? I saw Julius explode. I saw him." Pictures of her commander flashed, unbidden into Holly's mind like a slideshow. Yelling at her for not having her helmet on straight. Telling her that she was the test case, the beacon. Tossing her her Recon acorns. And finally, the look in his eyes as her said "I'm proud of you, Holly." The creature's voice rang out like a bell in her head.

"He's coming back. We can promise you. But we can't reverse it now. You have to stay human. You said you'd do anything. You promised. You can't break your promise-you already made it." Holly was finding it hard to breathe, which made it hard to think. Time seemed to slow down. "Yes," she gasped out like a dying fish. "I promised." Then, seconds before medical personnel burst through the bathroom door, she fainted.

Artemis paced up and down in his room. Holly was not answering her phone. He was worried. He'd been working on her latest case, and he thought he had it solved. However, she had not been there today, or yesterday, or the day before, when she'd originally promised to check in. He frowned. It was hard to think of anything short of a steam engine slowing Holly down, even though in reality he knew that all it took was a tranquilizer dart and some mirrored glasses. That was another thing-lately his conscience had been niggling at him, trying to get him to give back the ransom gold from when he was 12. Only the fact that it would be going to a pig like Ark Sool was helping him maintain control. He'd been given a lot of peace and quiet lately. Artemis had been busy lately with consultant work. And planning the occasional heist/illegal business venture. Artemis's favorite thing in the world was still the thrill of a perfect plot. The fact that he was reaping, comparably, very little profit from his little Robin Hood adventures didn't bother him nearly as much as he thought it would. What did bother him was the growing necessity of donning 'normal irritable teenage boy' clothes during his missions. There were two reasons for this: one, his father was was of the attitude that Artemis leaving the house in a suit without a good reason was the equivalent of Artemis leaving the house with a note on the fridge saying: GONE TO STEAL STUFF. BE BACK LATER. And two: Artemis was being forced to perform more and more of his maneuvers without Butler at his side. He felt guilty about dragging Butler into things when they so clearly took a toll on the bodyguard's prematurely aged body. He was getting accustomed to this new independence. Nice though it was, however, flying solo meant that things were a lot harder. He had to take every advantage he could get, and people were a lot more likely to underestimate a renowned criminal mastermind when he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. That was often the mistake they regretted the most when they woke up the next morning with their safes empty. He dialed again. Outside, his parents stopped in the hall as they heard him leave a message in a clipped, worried tone.

"Holly, it's me…I've called four times. You said you were going to call Wednesday. If this isn't Holly, then sorry, wrong number." His mother made a delighted face. "Timmy," she whispered. "He's calling a _girl_."

Trouble Kelp coughed nervously outside Holly's door. He'd rung the doorbell a few times, and decided he should go. She was probably asleep, and a tired, grumpy Holly was a force to be reckoned with. He turned to leave, then abruptly twisted the handle and walked inside. He was Major Kelp, second-in-command in the Lower Elements Police. He was not afraid of any angry female elf.

He took a deep breath, then swallowed. Even Holly.

Trouble walked in. The house was empty.

"Holly?" He found a note on the counter. His heart leapt and worry subsided, only to come crawling back again when he saw the note was not from holly, explaining where she'd gone. It was from Mulch, whom he'd last seen yesterday morning. It read:

_Holly-_

_Trouble said you were sick, so I stopped by to see how you were doing and bring you some cookies from your mom. Well, more like half a cookie. I got hungry. I'm still following up leads, call me if the Mud Boy gets anything._

_-Mulch_

Trouble dropped the note, chewing his lip. So she wasn't with her mom. And barely eight hours after he'd deposited her in her room, Holly had gone. That thing about the Mud Boy was interesting, too, but it could wait.

"HOLLY!"

Trouble made his way to the front door with a more purposeful stride. Holly wouldn't just leave like that. She was missing. He was going to find Mulch, file a missing persons report, after checking formally with her mother and her other friends, maybe even with Lili Frond, Gossip Cop. If anyone had heard anything, Lili would have. He was going to…Trouble felt dizzy. His head spun. Just as he was wondering if maybe he'd caught some of Holly's flu, Major Kelp passed out on Holly's hall carpet.

1. OK-you ever notice how Holly's always thinking about the sea life when she's flying over water? It specifically says in Book 1 that she 'called' to the dolphins while she was flying to go complete the Ritual, and they then swam up to say hello. And in Book 3, and I quote, " A school of humpback whales sensed Holly's presence and broke the storm foam, leaping fully thirty meters across a trough before disappearing into the black water."-pg. 88, hardcover edition.

2. Holly still has the gift of tongues even though she's a human because, remember, Mulch still has it and he's lost all his magic. If that doesn't satisfy you, then just write it up to writer's liscense,(hey, J.K. Rowling does it) because I'm not gonna make the poor woman learn Italian from scratch. I might have the gift turn out to be limited in future chapters, though,-maybe just a couple languages. Or I might not. You don't know, do you?

3. Not reviewing is the equivalent of stealing from the author. And you THEIVES make me so darn mad.

3a. "...THEIVES make me so darn mad. "-Quote from The Simpsons.

3b. Except for theives like Artemis, of course. Because they're awesome.


	3. Back in the uniform

Disclaimer: I'd like to see you MAKE me write one.

You people can thank the reviewer known as **_me, obviously _**for this chapter-he/she asked me in a review for The Luck Of The Irish to update.  
I hope you like it-I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially Arty's diary entry.  
Not reviewing is like stealing from the author.

Random Quote of the Day is from the Simpsons.  
Homer (as they're about to die): "Marge, I've always loved you. Bart, you've been a worthy foe."

OK, everybody, **a few things you should know** are at the end of the chapter in a **footnotes** section. If something such as the Miranda warning, ear dandruff, necromancy, or the political situation in Haiti confuses you, just scroll down.

Everyone at Sam's liked Holly. The pretty young woman had moved into an apartment building in the Italian town of Martina Leo, a suburb of Rome, two weeks ago. Sam was the proprietor of the little Italian restaurant, a white-haired grandfather with a thousand laugh lines on his tanned, leathery face. One rainy day, Sam had looked out and seen an auburn-haired young signora standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at the clouds almost curiously as they soaked her. Sam had gone out and tugged the woman inside (_Hey crazy girl! That's rain. We get it a lot here, good for the grapes. Whatsa matter-you from the Sahara? Never see rain before? You want some coffee? You need some coffee. No charge, no charge- now come get some coffee._) Holly had then accepted the coffee, so strong it kept her up and wired for the next eight hours, from the kindly old man, and ever since she stopped by Sam's at least once a day. Ex-Captain Short missed Haven so much it was like a constant pain in her heart or a constant ache in her throat. She'd barely noticed anybody in her new apartment who tried to be friendly or anyone anywhere else, for that matter. She hadn't been able to make contact with anyone she did know in the human world for fear of breaking her agreement with the strange pale fairies, (the Thingies, as she was starting to think of them privately) and never being able to see Julius again. So she had appreciated it when Sam had gotten her some coffee and then some kind of flaky pastry thing and not asked questions when she started to cry. She hadn't been able to cry when Root had died. There'd been too much saving of Mud Boys and foiling of deranged plots to do. She'd cried at his funeral, but the Thingies had torn open that wound again by cutting her off from everyone, giving her time to dwell on it. _He was coming back_, she told herself. _They promised. _Sometimes it was so hard to believe. _They also said this would be temporary. I haven't heard from any of them in two weeks. And why the D'Arvit do I have to be human? _Not to mention she was worried about bringing Julius back. Necromancy, after the victim's body had gone, was forbidden by the Book. What she had done to Butler wasn't necromancy, it was a healing, since he had not been declared officially dead. Anyways Foaly would never have let her do it if it was, and besides, she had not experienced the magical penalties awarded by the Book to those who dabbled in Formorian.

She didn't even have the Book anymore, and what's more, she didn't know where it had gone. The depressing thoughts were easier to deal with here at Sam's, where everybody was glad to see her, Sam treated her like a long-lost daughter, and nobody seemed too surprised that she'd appeared out of nowhere. Why wouldn't someone want to leave everything and move to their beautiful city? There were perks to being human. The aboveground air, for one thing. Also, humans had a notable lack of ear dandruff and flaking.

The little bell on the door at Sam's tinkled and shook Holly out of her reverie. She turned automatically to see who it was…

Gina peeked over her cubicle wall into the Satellite Images department where Greg had commandeered a computer with an Interpol satellite uplink.

"Greg, what are you doing?" She leaned farther over as he attempted to hide his computer screen. Farther and farther…Greg realized she was still trying to get a glimpse of what he was doing, and turned around in annoyance just in time to see Gina lean too far, lose her balance, and fall headfirst over his low wall and into his cube.

"Gina!" He helped her up, forgetting completely about his unguarded computer. Gina got an eyeful of the screen. Too late, Greg noticed the direction of her stare.

"I can explain-" To his surprise, she jumped to her feet and grabbed a gun.

"No explanation needed. Good thing you had this on! I gotta go!" With that, she ran out, continuing in an Italian undertone, "_Ai! What, you think I'm stupid? Explain, he says to me. I know a robbery when I see one_- HEY! DOMINICA! WE GOTTA CODE 16 OVER IN MARTINA LEO, SAM'S PLACE. IT'S A RESTAURANT. WHERE? YOU KNOW THERE'S NO STREET SIGNS! FIND SOMEBODY WHO KNOWS IT!" Uneasy and now completely confused, Greg turned back to the live satellite feed of his pretty new neighbor on his computer, the feed he'd been trying to stop Gina from seeing lest he endure her smugness over Greg's New Crush until the end of eternity. (Gina was smart, tough and talented at police work, but sometimes she had the professionalism of a junior high school student.) But the attractive redhead was no longer chatting easily to the restaurant owner. Now, a man in a ski mask with a gun had her in a headlock and was gesturing. Greg couldn't make out his words, but her could guess what they were. The catchphrase of petty criminals around the world: _Do as we say, or the lady here gets it._

Swearing very unprofessionally, Sergeant Gregory Howitzer grabbed his own sidearm and Kevlar vest and ran past where Gina was raising the alarm at Italian Interpol Headquarters, City of Rome. Well, not really. Gina was indeed raising the alarm at Italian Interpol Headquarters, City of Rome, but Gregory Howitzer, though indeed swearing very unprofessionally in his mind, was not allowed to be so much a field officer anymore. He was the Head of Internal Affairs at this Interpol, and other lucky rookies got to do his job for him. He had just about decided to go anyways when-

"Greg! GREG!" He turned around. It was Commander Bob Taratelli of the Organized Crime, Propaganda Rings, and Gang Department.

"Greg, it's time for the meeting!" Bob caught Greg's famous laser-intensity look down the hall. He clapped a hand on his colleague's shoulder.

"Hey, man, you're a head honcho now. More cash, less field time. Leave whatever it is to Gina there. Rapid Response is her field. She knows what she's doing." When Greg did not respond, Bob clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Look, man, I know RR used to be your spec, but you've moved on now. Whatcha gonna do-try and get yourself demoted?" Greg shook his head and walked down the hall with Bob , burning a hole in the bland blue-green office wall with his gaze, mind in turmoil. He just missed the sight of the pretty lady on his computer screen twisting out of the would-be robber's grip so fast the unlucky man got a friction burn.

The Interpol agents cautiously rounded the corner in Sam's restaurant, ready to apprehend the burglars. They got a surprise. A auburn-haired twentysomething woman with nut-brown skin, a crew cut, bow lips and an angry expression had apparently gotten there first. The two unlucky criminals were on the floor. Their arms were behind their heads in the 'under arrest' position, and the barrel of a shotgun-probably their own- was pointing directly at them. The woman's lips were moving. Gina managed to focus on what she was saying, and almost choked.

"…have the right to remain silent, because anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney or other legal counsel. You have the right, Mud Man on the left, to stop looking at me like that before I stop playing nice and decide to just shoot the two of you. You have the right-"

She was giving them their Miranda rights like she'd been doing it all her life. (Well, except for that last one.) _Stop being paranoid, Gina, she probably just saw it on TV._ But the young woman continued past the well-known 'right to remain silent' and kept going into the 'boring' rights of the accused that usually never made it onto prime time TV dramas.

"…you are under arrest for drawing a weapon, thus endangering your life and the life of the People around you. You are under arrest for attempted theft of gold, breaking the laws of the People. You-" Her phrasing was a little odd, and she kept using the word 'People' like it meant something besides, well, people. Gold? Gina took a quick peek inside the till. All this guy had was regular lira. All of the sudden, the woman, still spouting police warnings, lapsed into a different language.

"_Ak' ne'gahara dois entrdk la iznahil SEgazinil cree(_trill_)k'la_-" The woman stopped suddenly, and looked at the half dozen police officers with guns who were standing there. Gina found herself wishing that the mysterious lady had kept talking in that language. It wasn't exactly musical, but it was beautiful in its own way, and sent ripples down to very personal parts of Gina's mind. Gina shook herself. She was being ridiculous.

Holly felt her cheeks get hot. She'd been speaking Gnommish in front of humans! And giving these crooks the Haven City rights of the accused! Her training had just automatically kicked in and-yes, she'd even made the men get into the 'arrested' position._ Arrgghh!_

"Ah," she said, switching immediately back to Italian as tactfully as possible. "Officers…these men were trying to rob this establishment. There were originally three perpetrators , but the proprietor got the first man over the head with a wine bottle-" she froze again. _You sound like you're briefing Commander Root, _she yelled mentally. _Civilian! You are a civilian now, and a human one to boot! _They were still staring at her. One of the Interpol people pulled back their mask to reveal an olive-skinned Italian woman with shiny, slicked-back black hair that cam just past her earlobes. She was smiling. The others also flicked back their masks. They were all men, and some of them did not seem nearly as impressed. Probably they had been looking forward to a good shoot-out, just like Trouble Kelp's boys in Retrieval. Either that, or ticked off to find their job being done for them by the crazy girly captain. Holly kept the smile on her face even though her heart cracked at the memory of her friend and her notorious nickname. _Get a grip! First, you are NOT the crazy girly captain anymore, and also, bursting into tears will look even weirder than successfully detaining inept criminals like you'd been doing it all your life_!

_Okay, okay, you act like I start sobbing all the time. I'm not a baby, you know._

_Good. So stop talking to yourself. And pay attention! _

The woman had said something in Italian. Holly's silence had made her decide that Holly did not speak Italian. Now she switched to English. "Ma'am? Can you give me the gun?" _The gun, Holly. This is your chance to rectify your mistake. Make them think you're harmless. Don't attract attention, and it's just possible you won't get entered into a database and Artemis and Foaly won't find you. _If she wanted Julius back, the Thingy had made it clear that that could not happen.

The woman suddenly flashed surprisingly white teeth in a smile and handed Gina the gun. Gina saw the way she did it-like she was handing someone a pair of scissors. Nobody who wanted to keep their police job did that with a gun, because that meant the barrel would be pointing straight at the person handing the gun off during the transition. She relaxed-that alone showed the woman was probably an average civilian with no training. Still…

"Can I see your badge?" The woman looked at the floor.

"I don't have one. I'm not with the police."

"You with the military, government?"

"Nope."

"The Miranda warning?"

"Oh, that," She laughed uneasily. "I watch too much American television, you know? It kinda slipped out. Always dreamed about being a cop." Gina was unconvinced. She raised an eyebrow.

"You got outta that guy's grip pretty fast." Gina decided not to ask about the oddness (_Gold? People?_) of the Miranda.

"I, um, I'm good at hand-to-hand. Um. Used to be a Haitian bounty hunter. Got a few unarmed combat qualifications, then taught girl's self-defense classes. I escaped to here a few weeks ago and I'm still kind of settling in." Holly held her breath and cursed her clumsy lie. No way this woman was going to believe that she wasn't with a unit of some kind after witnessing that little display. Holly would have lied and said she was with the military, but a police professional would have ways to check her story. At least she'd had the sense to say she was from Haiti, somewhere as far as she could tell it would be pretty difficult to find and check records. Still, there was no way this shrewd Mud Woman was going to accept her story. No way in-

"In that case," said Gina brightly, "would you like a job?" Holly's jaw dropped.

"We could use some people like you on the force. All applicants have to be cleared with Internal Affairs first. It usually takes awhile, but don't worry, I know the head. He'll jump at the chance to hire someone intelligent for once."

Greg got out of his meeting with a headache. The mind-crushing dullness had almost been enough to make him forget about the stick-up he'd inadvertently witnessed.

"Greg!" He whipped around.

"Gina! How'd it go? Was anybody hurt?" Gina laughed.

"No, it went fine, everybody's fine, we caught the guys. As for the lady, she is also fine." Greg took a moment to feel incredibly relived, then stupid for overreacting. Gina's Rapid Response team was the best in the area. He shouldn't have been that worried in the first place. Gina watched her friend's normal easygoing demeanor return.

"Well, as long as nobody got hurt-"

"I offered her a job. She's here right now." Gina pointed. Greg wheeled around in shock. The woman was already chatting with Vicki from Forensics by the water cooler. He stared at her while Gina recounted the restaurant drama.

"….she's just a civilian, but she's got a lot of natural talent, so, what do you think?" Gina seemed annoyed. "Greg? Are you listening?" Greg was actually listening even less than he usually did. "Uh-huh." He sighed. "Well, give me her file and show her into my office."

Greg surveyed the woman in front of him. White T-shirt, blue jeans, buzz cut- definitely the girl who'd moved into the apartment across the hall from him a few weeks ago. And no file. That was odd.

"So, Signora… "

"Aurum, Holly Aurum." _I'm not using my real last name, but my father named me Holly and there I draw the line, mysterious pale fairies. If Foaly can find me with just the name Holly to search by, more power to him._

_"Aurum?" _thought Greg. Latin for 'gold', s_ounds made-up to me. This whole story's fishy. There's no way of checking whether or not she really was a Haitian bounty hunter, whether she has a criminal record, the other million and one things Internal Affairs-and I-am held responsible for. I-_

Holly, unnerved by the silence, gave the Interpol chief a nervous smile. Greg was annoyed to lose his train of thought.

"Ahem, Signora Aurum. You come very highly recommended from Gina, lots of positive testimony from her and her team, which happens about once in a blue moon. They hate civilians. However, the no-file thing makes this kind of difficult for me," he sighed. "Is there anything else you'd care to tell me? Or anyone in Haiti I could check your story with?" Holly pursed her lips and shook her head. "Sorry. Records got burned in the last coup. I don't think there's anyone you could call to verify." For anyone else, Greg would have had to close the file right there, but he did owe Michelle a favor, and she really needed staff who spoke other languages. Gina also seemed to really like this kid. _Kid?_ _Hey, buddy, you're not such a veteran yourself. You're actually the same age as her. You promised me you wouldn't get stuck up when you became a cop._

"I don't suppose you're bilingual or anything? Michelle's got a shortage of multilingual negotiators in Communications and Collaboration -"

"Hostage negotiations?"

"Yes, and also interpreter work." Holly paused, then grinned and nodded.

"Yeah, I speak other languages. Let's see, one, two, three-" Greg smiled too. Now they were getting somewhere. Still, without a file, she'd have to be one heckuva gifted-wait a second. _What?_

"**_How_** many languages?" She folded her hands in her lap.

"A lot. I've lost count," replied the applicant in her accented Italian. "But I can't write in them. Only speak." Holly winced inside, again, at how bad her alibi sounded. Greg was too busy trying to figure out her accent. It didn't sound too Haitian. More like a little bit of every accent he'd ever heard rolled into one.

"And those would be?"

"English, Italian, German, Mandarin, Russian, Spanish… French, Latin, Gaelic, Japanese, Hebrew, umm…" Holly rattled off as many human languages as she could think of. Well, she _could_ speak them all. She didn't know why she was applying for this job. It was just that…D'Arvit it all, she missed police work.

"Swahili, Portuguese, Cantonese, Arabic…" Greg blinked. There was gifted, and then there was ridiculous. He spoke four languages himself, and he knew enough people to test her on an additional twenty-seven. Charming though she may be, Greg had no patience for liars. If she really could speak all those languages….

"File or no, lady, if you can speak all those, you're hired!" The woman smiled, all traces of doubt or nervousness gone.

"Thank you, Mr. Howitzer."

"You can call me Greg. And it's don't thank me yet- Michelle works all her people hard, and with a résumé like that you're going to be doing overtime."

Holly curled up on her couch and turned her Interpol badge this way and that, so it caught the light. It was nothing on her first Recon acorns, but….Oh, she'd just _had_ to remind herself, hadn't she? Enough of that. On the plus side, her new boss Dave seemed nice and so was Michelle, the C&C department head. She was having lunch tomorrow with Gina. As for that guy, Greg- she allowed herself a smile. He'd been so determined to prove that she was telling the truth, but he hadn't been upset enough to take it personally when it turned out she did speak everything they threw at her. Who'd have guessed she'd ever even **think** anything nice about an Internal Affairs head after having known Ark Sool? She didn't know why she was in such a good mood. She had a desk job, for Haven's sake. _A human desk job_.

Holly grinned at her reflection in the badge, then over at the big, clunky, human gun on the table. A police job, a badge and a sidearm. She was a rookie again. More danger, more running around annoying superior officers, having to win the respect of teammates all over again.

Ahhhh…It felt good to be back in uniform. All she needed now was a pair of wings. Holly stretched her legs out on the coffee table and thought about getting a pet.

_Celtic human lore told of babies that were snatched from their cribs by fairies. The fairy babes left in exchange were called changelings. That myth was mostly fabrication, of course-the occasional fairies that would try to steal a human child were about as common as a diamond in your spaghetti, and those that would leave one of their own in trade still rarer. The thought that made Holly smile was this: she was a changeling. The twenty-first century changeling, the only recorded changeling in existence. _

It never occurred to her that there could be more.

Which was surprising, because she was a cop. Or had been at any rate, and now was again. And all the criminals that were part of her police job, and the dirty dealers that were part of the PI job, had made her oh-so-slightly more suspicious than the average fairy. (Still nowhere as paranoid as Foaly, but remember, this is the girl who plays 'Guess The Crime' when she's bored. Oh, come on, she played it at that spa in the Files. It's the one where you assume everyone around you is a criminal and you try to figure out what they did.) Also, Holly had been the victim of many a diabolical plot in her day. And the mystery of the strange, pale creatures that had done this to her chased itself around in her brain every night. As she grew more and more accustomed to her strange, sad, fish-out-of-water situation, it bothered her no less, but she could simply not think of what to do. It always ended either with her falling asleep, or resolving to not trust these things. Then falling asleep and waking up human.

One night, shortly after she'd become this way, the creature had shown up again in her dreams, and she had raged at it. It had politely offered to undo the deal. But the thought of having Julius back overrode her misgivings, and she'd wound up declining its offer. When she woke up, Holly had cursed at not asking if she'd be able to go back after the deal was done. That same day, she'd decided that if she was going to be here awhile, she was darn well living in Italy. She'd loved Italy when the most she'd known of it was flying above the country and of course, that time the troll had escaped into the restaurant. She'd thought about settling in Martina Franca, where that whole incident took place, but after checking out Rome on the Internet she'd settled on Martina Leo. And, there was always the danger that she could run into Artemis if she settled in Ireland, much as the People loved it.

_The diary of Artemis Fowl II (encrypted)_

_Day school. I am as yet unsure what made me agree to this madness. Still, it is nice to be nearer my parents. These kids are proving slightly harder to manipulate, but I think I have managed to finally get rid of the cheerleaders. I really do not need a bunch of amorous airheads watching me **eat**, for Haven's sake. I have tried numerous plots, with limited success, but now I think I have finally hit upon the solution._

_Yesterday I joined a chat room commonly used by schoolgirls at my new school under the screen name pArtygurl909. I informed Kelly, (Imperial Empress of the Dance Team,) and most of her minions on no uncertain terms that the 'new guy' (myself) and his family were members of a satanic cult. Then gossipgirlychic and BBallDude (both of which were me in the guise of normal students again, of course) chimed in to verify the fact, thus making it undeniable according to juvenile gossip codes. Drastic, yes, but eating the mystery muck at this school is hard enough, let alone trying to ignore constant sighs from the students around you. (And I use the term 'students' lightly-these girls are into gossip and glitter more than grades.) The plus side to this strategy is that I have managed to deter most of the cheerleaders, the Dance Squadron of Doom, as I have taken to calling it, and the more persistent members of the girl's crew team. However, I have now attracted a different (if smaller and less annoying) set of people. There is Christine, whose parents are Christian missionaries and who is a rabid religious fanatic herself. She had heard the satanic cult rumor and was trying to convert me. Christine was accompanied by her brother, Ryan, who was doing a term paper on cults. Both are my age, but I deemed it safe to reveal the truth to them, as Christine is mortal enemies with half the cheerleaders to begin with and I did not judge Ryan a threat. Christine actually agreed to help me in my crusade to not be noticed, though it must be noted that she seemed somewhat disappointed at being unable to make her first conversion. Ryan just laughed and thanked me for not providing him with false information for his paper. However, due to the effectiveness of the high school rumor mill, there is still Joyce. Her parents actually are members of a somewhat nonmainstream (to say the least) faith, and the idea that someone else is going through the same thing as she gives her a lot of comfort. Thus far, I have not had the heart to get rid of her. _

_Butler was rather surprised to see me talking to Joyce when he came to collect me-she dresses as though in mourning. Her personal style is commonly described as 'Gothic', I believe-but he wound up finding the whole thing rather funny, once I had explained sufficiently. _

_Still have not heard from Holly. I am beginning to get worried. Disregard that last part, I am worried, and so was Butler when I told him. I have not heard from her in a number of weeks. Though the most logical conclusion is that her battery burned out and she is having difficulty finding a new one, my mind is still not entirely at rest._

FOOTNOTES

1. The Miranda warning is that 'you have the right to remain silent' stuff the police give you when they arrest you. They're named after an American guy who's last name was Miranda and who wasn't convicted of his crime because the police had failed to inform him of his rights. Henceforth that information is known as the Miranda warning.  
2. Interpol (International police) are not really a police agency, they help out the regular police in a country. However, for my intents and purposes, for the plot, and also because their real role is boring, I am making Interpol a sort of normal, nonlimited, global police/ intelligence agency.  
3. Bounty hunters track bail jumpers and are indeed around today. They do many cool things and any civilian can be one if they can hired.  
4. Haiti has had so many coups and been so war-torn for the past 40 years or so that it would be pretty difficult to check records there.  
5. Coup coup d'état, a revolution in which a country's military takes it over. Pronounced _coo.  
_6. Holly does mention in Book 1 that the People have a problem with ear dandruff without a regular moisturizing routine.  
7. As-As far as I understand it, necromancy is defined as the dark magic of resurrecting a dead person. Often includes binding said corpse to the necromancer's will.


	4. Hadrian

Thanks for the reviews, as per usual-have I mentioned I luuuurrrrve them? Pre-apologies for shortness of this chapter.

Disclaimer: The Artemis Fowls are not mine, and I'm fairly sure they're not yours either. Unless by some miracle Eoin Colfer is reading this, which would totallybetheHIGHHLIGHTofmyLIFE AUUUGGGHH I LOVE YOUR BOOKS EOIN!

Random Quote of the Day is from Madagascar: "Maurice, you have insulted the freaks. Apologize."

The human men were floating, unconscious, in the water. With a small pop, a pale fairy who had long, white-blond girly hair (even though he was _probably_ a male) appeared over them, hovering. He let out a giggle as he sent out a call to the sharks, a call that rippled like an invisible shockwave through the dark water. The message was simple. _Blood is here_. _Prey is here._ Miles, away, sharks turned around and headed towards the source of the call, trusting it instinctively and implicitly. A second creature appeared in the air behind the first one, this time with no noise, and gave the scene below a critical look. Without warning, he smacked the other on the head. The creatures were shown to not be fairies at this point-a blow like that would have smashed an elfin skull.

"Idiot," said the first one casually in a sharp, guttural tongue. The smaller-whatever it was- appeared not to have been hurt by the blow, although the other creature's appearance had had a profound effect on it. It immediately stopped tittering and stared at it's toes.

"And stop staring at your toes. That's so, so human. And also very fairy. What's your name, inferior?" The subordinate looked up sharply, the beginnings of a flaming red blush appearing on his pigment-deprived cheeks.

"Hadrian, Senior One." The sharks were getting closer to the two men in the water. The men were both comatose, though the one with the beard looked close to coming round. The other human had slightly wavy black hair, a stocky, very muscular frame, and a well-defined five o' clock shadow. The second one was a few inches taller, easily six feet, and a lot wilder. Wild hair and a wild beard, both of which looked like tangled bushes sprouting from his prominent jawbone. That wasn't the end of his hair. This man had enough hair on his brawny arms alone for a couple toupees and a small mammal.

The second creature studied them for a few moments longer.

"What's keeping them afloat? Humans sink. They're dense things, Adrian," he snorted. Hadrian snapped his fingers, and double trails of iridescent sparks revealed themselves to be connected from his digits to the people below, continually pulling them to the surface of the sea.

"Well, I have to give you points for style here. Although not a lot of originality, using the ocean-I believe Caster ordered you to drown the first one in the Mediterranean? This is the Atlantic, but still-" The smaller thing looked crestfallen. The bigger one took no notice.

"And it didn't work with the first one, thanks to the dolphins and those infernal whales. I understand you were merely following orders, so there will be no penalty. However, here's a tip: using failed methods is not the route to promotion. I see you went for a bloodier approach this time, with the sharks-that'll look good. Hmmm-were you perhaps trying to keep with an oceanic theme?" Hadrian nodded furiously, gratified at this favorable angle towards his actions. The boss-creature nodded approvingly.

"Well, water does generally take more magic to work with, accursed stuff, and I admire your viciousness in planning, that'll get you far," he said, leaning conspiratorially toward the younger thing with a wink, "but we can't have failure a second time, can we? Caster is already being punished for the fiasco of his plan, even though he did not cast it himself and all things told, it may cause even more pain then we had planned originally. But we are going for more than simple death here." The taller human with the beard started to stir, his powerful lungs couching up seawater. He would be coming around soon.

"We are going for heartbreak, mental pain, emotional anguish," the bigger one continued. The smaller one privately felt that the traditional ways of normal pain were better, but would never have dared point this out to his superior.

The Senior One finally noticed the beginnings of the crazy-haired man's awakening, something Hadrian had been too timid to point out for the last ten minutes.

"Ah. He's coming round. In that case, better do it now." He snapped his fingers. A crack rang out. For a second nothing seemed to be happening, then the two humans were gone.

Trouble finally came round, coughing and hacking.

"Uhhh" He put a hand over his face to block the sun. The real sun, not an artificial sun globe. The sun? He was aboveground? In the _daytime_? And he was lying on _grass_. Next to him, a human man appeared to be wringing out his beard. Trouble's breath caught in his throat. A human! A human had captured him! He was fired for sure, and who knew how much danger the People were in. He had to get out of the sun before it bleached away his magic. Scratch that, it probably already had. Well, first thing to do would be to act like he hadn't come round yet, buy time. He had to-how had he gotten here?-maybe the human would tell him-he had to_-_

_Mulch_?

The human had turned around and for a split second, Trouble could have sworn it was Holly's kleptomaniac partner, whom he'd met once or twice. His moment of wide-eyed shock showed the man that Trouble was awake. _Stupid, _he berated himself. The man frowned while Trouble tried to see if he had enough magic for the _mesmer_. Nope. The familiar buzz at the base of his skull that was his magic was gone. The human man opened his mouth. Trouble didn't know what he was expecting, but it was definitely not what he heard next.

"Aren't you that macho police jock Holly knows from her days as one of you cop thickheads? Major Something-Or-Other? Always stopping by her tunnel to help her with her cases _pro bono_?" That was Mulch's voice, speaking in Gnommish, which meant that unlikely as it seemed, that human was Mulch. Trouble sat up, realizing that he was a human. And so was Diggums. (They were also very wet, despite the fact that the ground around them was dry.) The two men stared at each other with wide eyes as they slowly realized this was not a bizarre nightmare.

"_You see, Dameon," said the Senior One, "some of us like this part best-the initial shock and/or disbelief. Amusing and satisfying though it is, Personally, I, prefer watching them try to cope later on." Hadrian nodded furiously, trying to look appropriately awed, impressed, and subservient and **not** stare at his toes. He still wished they'd used the sharks. The tiger sharks in particular were going to be very annoyed with him when they arrived and found no meal waiting._

"So," said Mulch, with a notable lack of his usual toothy grin, "I guess we know what happened to Holly now." Trouble sucked in his breath, barely noticing that he was wearing human clothes in this rush of realization.

"You're right, Diggums. This must be it. We have to find Holly. I've been looking for her belowground for weeks-okay, not really. My blasted flu laid me out cold and I couldn't go to work, but I did my best." Mulch nodded.

"Hey, I got the same thing. Maybe it wasn't a normal flu. What kind of flu turns fairies into humans?" Trouble shook his head, thinking. "A magical one? That's Foaly's department. The only clue I have to where Holly is this," The LEP major held out a small yellow walkie-talkie. "There's a pirate booster on this thing. I found it by her bed. Short was using it to talk to someone on the surface, or else in Atlantis." He gritted his teeth.

"But I don't know who. The seawater burned it out, so there's no way to tell" Mulch suddenly, finally, grinned.

"Oh yeah? I think I know who it was," he said, getting up. Trouble also rose slowly to his feet. The part of him that wasn't preoccupied with his minor species change problem marveled at his height. He had to be over five feet tall-quite possibly even six! But was that tall for a human? A picture of the human Butler flashed into his mind. Maybe not. Then again, Butler was huge among humans. A disgruntled part of Trouble noted that Mulch was taller than he was. Mulch himself was busy being rather upset over the loss of several cubic inches of mouth space. How did humans get by with enamel this wimpy? He hadn't had this few teeth since his first set had started coming in. Mulch clicked his jaw together. He'd bet the Fei Fei tiara that the new set wouldn't hold up to rocks.

"Who?" Trouble sounded completely revitalized at this news of his friend. Mulch attempted a grin before he answered anyways, though it didn't have the same effect on Trouble that it usually did on any fairy or human it was turned on. Then again, he couldn't expect the same results with a human mouth and an LEP jock named Trouble. _Trouble_. Did his mom have foresight? Unless he'd picked it at his manhood ceremony, in which case this guy was serious about his work. A real gung-ho, let's-get-'em-boys type. Mulch swallowed a groan. He hated those types they were invariably the most dogged. And no crook likes a dedicated cop.

"Her consultant. And judging by the air and those cliffs, Trub, we just might have hit the right island."

"It's Trouble, not _Trub_," Trouble bristled.

"Right, right. Just trying to be understanding."

"What do you mean, Diggums?" Mulch swallowed. This guy's voice was developing the definite growl of a police fairy as the shock of being a human wore off slightly. He kept the grin, however, plastered firmly on his face. Mulch was worried, too., and was venting steam by seeing how far he could push this guy.

"Well, you know, Trouble. It's kind of an unusual name. I mean, I thought Artemis Fowl had it bad." Mulch would have mentioned the mother thing, but you never knew. Even if you weren't insulting her directly, you never, ever mentioned an angry guy's mother, especially if you were dealing with stupid goblins. There was no telling how he would take it. Trouble got ready for an irritable retort, when his breath caught in his throat.

"Of course," he breathed. "A consultant on the surface. How stupid could I be? Who's the only human Short's actually friends with?"

_The pale creature gasped and looked at his boss. They were hovering, unseen, fifty feet above Trouble and Mulch's heads. The boss appeared worried for a moment, then laughed it off. _

"_It's not like they'll be able to find her," he said. "If this is a human consultant, then I wouldn't give a half-diasa for their chances, although when we asked the female she certainly seemed to think highly of this-this_ _**Artemis Fowl**."_

FOOTNOTES:

1. Trouble insisted on his TOTALLY AWESOME name at his manhood ceremony right after he got into the LEP Acedemy. Don't ask me how I know.

2. Half-_diasa_ -a _diasa_ is Little Pale Floaty Thing (no, you don't get to find out what they are yet) currency.


	5. Not Foaly

Apologies for the short chappie and for the long time it took to get it out. I'm afraid I won't be able to update for awhile, but I will try.

Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer wrote Artemis Fowl. I am nothing. I am dirt. Scum. Destined to wallow in lawsuits unless I write this, (or so I'm told.)

Artemis Fowl, Senior frowned as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. Angeline knew that look only too well-he was thinking about their son.

Somehow, these two relatively normal people had produced a child who was extraordinary and, well, mystifying. Artemis Senior had been away for a couple years, and come back to find his son a stranger. Last month, for example, Senior had found out his son spoke four languages. Four! The last time he'd checked, Arty spoke only two-Russian and English. Arty's self-taught Russian was going unused at the moment. Arty had figured Russian words, particularly from his mouth, would have a bad effect on Artemis Senior psychologically. At least, that's why Senior suspected Artemis never used any Russian, or liked to mention that he could. If that was what Artemis thought, Timmy was willing to bet anything that that was correct. And it had turned out to be true, when Artemis had let his self-control slip one day and let out a long string of angry Russian at some inconvenience from behind his bedroom door. He'd looked out, embarrassed, to make sure nobody had heard him. Artemis Junior had little idea that his father was just around the corner, shaking at the painful memories shouted Russian brought back.

Quite honestly, the Fowls did not know what to think about their son. He'd get a new computer, or new computer equipment, and pay for it with his own bank account money, and they'd only find out about it when they went into his room one day. And another thing- he was a teenager, but he was so antisocial that the only proof of that was that he was getting taller, and that he liked pizza all of the sudden. Except he put caviar on it.

In that particular charge of antisociality they were wrong, however. Artemis knew lots of people his own age. There was Christiana Gates the Second, whose mother was a useful contact in a forensic lab. Mina was the lone daughter of a wealthy Columbian drug lord Artemis had been working to topple in his spare time. Ren and Rex were a pair of eighteen-year-old twins who ran an impressive intelligence network of informants and spies called the Spiderweb which he occasionally made use of. He had pulled Mona out of a gang war, patched her up and taken her home to her parents. She had proved brilliant at intricate work restoring and repairing paintings, jewelry and other stolen museum artifacts that Artemis did not have the time to do himself. Rose Holler was the disgruntled daughter of America's ambassador to France and was more than willing to aid other contacts. Rose's grown-up second cousin Louise ran a diner in Kansas and a successful bank-robbing enterprise. Cody Macpeherson's father worked at in Interpol in Australia, and Cody was usually able to get onto the satellite data system. Aliyah, Zenobia and Ahmed were the children of some of the world's top ten-paid hitters. (Their assassin mothers were nice but extremely…motherly for people in their profession.) Emma and Liz were American lobster fisher girls who helped Artemis track smuggling networks. (see footnote 1) And of course, there were kids from school: Christine the religious fanatic, Joyce the Depressed Goth, and Ryan the Sensitive Jock. (Artemis had been at risk of being labeled sensitive until the girls realized that the reason he was such a good listener was the fact that he was not, in fact, listening.)

The reason behind all these criminal contacts was that, well, Artemis was busy. Nothing was more of a challenge than stealing something without having your parents find out why you were spending so much time in your room, as he was discovering, and now he could not just hop aboard the Lear with Butler and spend months in the city where the prize was, plotting from there. He needed reliable people who could take pictures and get surveillance. 'Reliable', of course, meant his fellow juvenile delinquents, although Artemis hated that word. They called child lawbreakers JDs to soften the blow, but Artemis didn't want that. He was a criminal. Juvenile delinquents were people more like the idiotic vandal psuedo-rebels populating his new school. Sometimes his conscience gave a little twinge at the deception of his parents, but he reassured himself he was not hurting anybody, except those that deserved it.

He was also keeping his promise to himself about getting more physically fit, namely because he did a lot of his stealing himself. When something goes wrong and you have seven seconds to get from the end of this hallway to the door before the camera loop ends and the guards can see you, it's not quite as good an incentive as a pack of trolls, but it's close enough. Sometimes he missed the good old days of robbing banks, but breaking into private estates to steal back stolen goods could be a lot more challenging, which was really what he was after. Artemis had gotten some pointers from Mina, who'd been trying to run away from the drug lord's estate for so long that she knew nearly every trick. He was also beginning to discover that he was built pretty well for running, climbing, hauling angry Italian girls out of gang warfare, stealing, whatever. There were downsides, however. Ryan had lately been pressuring him to join the track team after seeing Artemis jump three feet straight in the air to a low-hanging tree branch to avoid the guidance counselor.

Trouble let out a low whistle at the sight of Fowl Manor. He'd forgotten the Mud Boy lived in such a luxurious estate. Sudden fears of running into Butler overwhelmed him. He did not want to die human, although there was always a hope the big man would recognize Mulch. According to Diggums, Butler held him in extremely high esteem. Trouble had a good detector for lies, exaggeration, and absolute fairy-tales, being a cop. Once he'd applied this to Mulch's glowing descriptions of the respect Butler had for the hairy kleptomaniac, he had decided they did have a possibility of survival after breaking into Butler's charge's house. There was still a chance Butler wouldn't want to commit murder in broad daylight with so many security cameras around. Trouble looked down at his large human hands, balled into fists. Then again, he was much larger now. He'd go down fighting.

"All right, Diggums, how do we get in?" Mulch was waving at a security camera.

"Don't-"

"Relax, Trub. Everyone in this house recognizes me-everyone who's home, anyways. Look at the number of cars in the drive. Mama and Papa aren't here. Ah, looky."

"Butler?" Trouble asked, trying to sound nonchalant. _Stop being such a wuss, elf! (see footnote 2) If you die, you die._

"Close," answered Mulch. "It's the blonde version." A tall human girl/woman was loping down the driveway. She paused outside the gates. The first man did look exceptionally like Mulch. Wrong species, though. The second man was cute, but not recognizable. Juliet cleared her throat. "Can I help you?"

Mulch grinned. "Hello, Smelly," he said. Trouble groaned. They were doomed.

1 minute later.

Trouble was amazed they were still breathing. Apparently, Mulch did know this human girl. What was more, he seemed to be on speaking terms with her. Then again, Trouble had always maintained that humans were weird.

"Typical Mud Girl," Mulch was whining. "I carry you, literally _carry _you, eighty-one floors up a skyscraper, _in the rain,_ just so you can rescue your precious Principal, and you won't do a simple thing like letting me talk to Artemis." Juliet was torn. Any other day and she'd have sworn it was Mulch, but letting in random hairy strangers to talk to the Principal was definitely out.

"I told you, a mysterious flu turned me into a human. Just let me talk to the Mud Boy."

"Alright, Mulch, if it is you, fine. Who's your friend?"

"Him?" Mulch jerked his head at Trouble. "He's an LEP jock."

"Not that new commander-"

"No, _not_ Ark Sool. His name's Trub. Friend of Holly's. Speaking of whom," Mulch realized he had a trump card, "I'll bet you haven't heard from her lately, have you?" That did it. Artemis had confided the Holly problem to Butler and Juliet just that morning, and they were all getting worried. Mulch and Trouble, (still grumpy about his introduction) were in.

The Mud Boy in question was sitting at a handsome mahogany desk with the contents of a walkie-talkie spread in front of him. He was looking at them through a magnifier.

"What is it, Juliet-_Mulch?"_ When Mulch didn't immediately answer, Artemis stood up, slightly embrassed, and proffered a hand, saying "I apologize, you remind me of someone I-" Mulch grinned.

"It's me, Artemis." When Artemis looked unconvinced, he added "I saved your sorry Irish butt on countless occaisions? Remember Spiro? Remember Koboi-twice?"

"_Mulch? _It is you! A hologram, perhaps?" Artemis began walking all around his old comrade, observing him from all angles. "One of Mr. Foaly's inventions, no doubt; it is very sophisticated-" Major Kelp walked into the room and was treated to a fourteen-year-old Irish boy poking him in the forehead, saying "-some sort of force field, as well? My, my, this is very-wait. No, it isn't." Now Mulch got a poking. "Simulating skin texture is something beyond even Foaly's abilities, I think."

"Don't let him hear you say that," grinned Trouble. Artemis looked him over again.

"Ah, Major Kelp. We had a brief meeting last year, during the whole Opal Koboi affair; I never did get to thank you for not killing Holly and myself. In case you are wondering, I recognize you from your LEP file." Artemis failed to volunteer information as to why he had been looking at Trouble's file as the enormity of what he was seeing struck him. He sat down abruptly.

"Foaly...has invented a way of-" Mulch shook his head.

"'Fraid not, Mud boy."

"Then how-" The former dwarf spread his hands wide.

"We were hoping you could tell us. We just woke up and _bam-_here we were, human and on the surface." Artemis stared at the two men wide-eyed for several moments. At last he stood up again, and managed a watery smile.

"Well. And I thought I was having a growth spurt." Artemis let out a wry smile. "Let us hear the details of your story, and I'll see if I can't-" Trouble butted in.

"That's very kind of you, uh-" Trouble realized he was uncertain as to what to call the pale teen.

"Artemis, please." The boy inclined his head graciously. "Any friend of Captain Short's and so forth."

"Artemis. But we're not here to have you find out what's wrong with us. We want you to help us find Holly." A spark lit in Artemis's eye.

"You think that something of this sort happened to her."

"I think something of this sort is _exactly_ what happened to her." Artemis smiled again. Except this time everyone in the room, including Juliet, who should have by all rights been used to it by now, got a chill. It was not exactly a friendly smile; on the whole it looked atouch diabolical. It was not a smile you would want to be up against. Artemis had got a lead.

Holly was staring at the oven in disbelief when she heard frenzied barking from the hall outside her quiet Italian apartment. Right outside. She opened the door in curiousity and found, to her utter shock, Greg from Interpol Internal Affairs standing there, attempting to calm down a frenzied white dog bounding around him. Holly thought he was fighting a losing battle; the dog was so big that she kept almost knocking him over. (Fairies are never confused about the gender of an animal. They will, however, continually mistakenly refer to a boat as a 'he', no matter how many times they are reminded otherwise. This is because either the magic of the ocean addles that sense, because it does not extend to inanimate objects, or because they think the boat thing is stupid. No human has ever bothered to find out.)

"Oh-hey, Miss Aurum." Holly opened the door a little wider.

"Greg? What are you doing here?" Greg attempted to disentangle the dog's leash from his ankle.

"Um-I guess you didn't notice, Holly, but I live here, too. Right across the hall."

"Oh," she laughed. "I'm sorry, I've been kind of out of it until I got this job. Thanks again for-"

"I didn't have anything to do with it. Anyone would have hired you, with all the languages you can speak." He glanced back down at his barking pet.

"This is Lola, by the way. I don't suppose you speak Dog, too?" Holly grinned. It would have been funnier if she didn't actually speak Dog, andshe hadn't actually been listening to "WAAAAAAALK! WALK! WALK! C'mon, let's go! Are we going out? Are we going for a WALK? Oh boy, a walk! Squirrels! Smells! WAAALK!" for the past five minutes.

"I think she wants to go for a walk." Greg smiled.

"Would you, uh, like to come? I think Lola likes you." Holly stared at him expressionlessly foralmost a full minute. Greg was feeling extremely akward but was rewarded for his silence when a shy smile finally broke, like a sunset, across his painfully pretty neighbor's face.

It couldn't hurt to make some firends. And Greg wasn't bad-looking for a human, after all. And it's not like she was having any fun battling the human _gas oven_. Speaking of which, that thing belonged in a museum. Or a trash compactor-

"Sure," said the former Captain Short. "I'd love to."

1. Lobster-fishing licenses can be difficult to come by. When a lobster fisher decides to retire, he or she will often elect to keep the license in the family, passing it onto children as young as seven in some cases.

2. Trouble's not used enough to being a Mud Man that he'd think "Stop being such a wuss, **man**!" It's: "Stop being such a wuss, **elf!"** And he's not a wuss, either...Butler just scares him. But then again, Butler scares everybody, including people who _haven't_ personally been beaten on by him.


	6. Mona

Disclaimer: Not mine. I own nothing. I am nothing. Leave me ALONE!  
Thanks to lilacpurple for betaing.

Rnadom Quote of the Day is from the TV show _House, M.D.(best show EVER!):  
_Dr. House: I take risks, sometimes patients die, but not taking risks causes more patients to die, so my biggest problem is the curse to do the math.

"…And another two glasses of ice water, if you don't mind." Mona sighed mentally. They were already on dessert, there was no way they'd finish that water. And all that water was heavy. Mona's arms were already killing her.

"Are you sure about that, sir?" The man paused. Her heart rose.

"On second thoughts, why not bring us a whole pitcher, and some glasses?" He honestly thought he was being nice. The man smiled blithely up at her. Mona stared at him disbelievingly for just a shade too long, and the smile began to fade a little.

"Is there a problem?" Too late, she hitched her best waitress smile on her face. _The tip. Keep thinking about the tip. It's not this guy's fault you're having a bad day._ She went back behind the counter and was about to go into the kitchen when-

"Hello, Mona." There was no mistaking that voice, speaking almost perfect Italian with an odd inflection. She didn't turn around.

"No, Artemis."

"No what? I didn't even ask you for anything this time- yet. Nice job, by the way. So what do you mean, no?" Mona clicked her tongue.

"The job helps pay for college. Not all of us are rich. My uncle owns this restaurant, so as soon as I turned fourteen I started working here. Oh, and by 'no'. I mean, _No. _As in, no_ nothing. _No fixing paintings, no jewelry repair, no getting art sales records, _no more stealing_. Oh," she relented a bit, " and you can get out from under the counter. My dad's not here."

"Ah, good. It was getting a bit cramped down here. He doesn't like me very much." Mona snorted.

"To say the least. So, why are you- No!" she shook her head like a dog shaking water out of its coat. "I am NOT HELPING YOU." She shook her head again, more like she was trying to convince herself than Artemis, who seemed not in the least deterred by the girl's constant refusals. "Get someone else."

"Someone else is not going to do."

"No!"

"Mona-"

"I'll call my father." Artemis shook his head sorrowfully.

"So beautiful, and yet so cruel."

"Eh. Don't start on me, boy-"

-------------

"I don't believe it," murmured Mulch to Trouble as they watched the drama playing out before them through the restaurant window. "The Mud Boy is actually being charming."

"That's unusual?"

"Oh yeah. I didn't think he even knew _how_ to talk to a girl."

"Hm." They watched for a few more minutes as the two teenagers continued to argue.

"So why do we need her help again?" Mulch munched a sandwich like someone crunching popcorn as they watched a movie.

"No idea."

----------

Artemis has resorted to guilting Mona into helping him.

"I pull you out of a gang war,-"

"Not so loud," she hissed, looking around worriedly.

"You _still_ haven't told people about that? You shouldn't keep secrets from your parents, Mona." Artemis would have choked on the hypocrisy, except that obviously such things didn't apply to _him_.

"-I pull you out of a gang war, put your shoulder back in its socket, pay for your stitches, and walk you home, causing your father to believe I am an Italian gang member, and all I ask in return is a favor, and you won't help me? Mona-"

"Look," she said, whirling around, "I did tell him you were a good guy, that you helped me and you weren't in some street gang, but your failure to come to dinner and submit to interrogation like a normal Italian boy has not helped alleviate his suspicions, _comprehende_? And I will-not-_help_-you!"

----------

Dr. Fahzid squeezed through the door with difficulty, shutting out the swarm or reporters anxious to get a look at the man lying in the hospital bed in front of her.

"Well, Mr. Short, you are a lucky man." The man in question winced at the phrase for some reason. Powerfully built, though emaciated from his stay in the desert, he had a commanding air about him and wore the gray in his hair proudly. Again, he reached up and rubbed his ear.

"How long did you say you were in the desert?" The man gave his answer in grating Arabic.

"A week."

"I'm amazed you survived." A reporter nearly shoved his way through the door. Dr. Fahzid turned to look, then turned back to his patient. She looked calm, but a muscle was going in her forehead. "-But you have excellent muscle tone, you're gaining your weight back well, you got up to a mile on the treadmill yesterday. VERNA, KEEP THE PRESS OUT. Sorry. Your only problems are these headaches, a heart condition, and-OUT! THIS MAN IS IN THE HOSPITAL, I DON'T CARE IF HE JUST CAME BACK FROM THE MOON, YOU WILL WAIT UNTIL HE GETS OUT!-you say you have no memory of where you came from?"

"None," came the reluctant answer, as the man shook his head slowly.

"Well, said Dr. Fahzid, checking her clipboard, "We'll have to work with that. I'd better go check on Verna, she'll do anything to have someone take her picture, and she might-" But the good doctor was too late. A tidal wave of the Egyptian and the international media came pouring into the room suddenly, eager for a shot or an interview of the amnesiac who had come walking out of the desert. (Verna could be seen tucking some bills into her pocket.) It was an unbelievable miracle. It was totally Hollywood. It was every journalist's dream. It was a soon-to-be TV movie.

Before the patient could even answer one of the shouted questions (though from the disgusted look on his face, answering calmly was the last thing on his mind), a small, tanned, teenage girl with dark flashing eyes shoved her way through the crowd and flung her arms around his waist.

"Grandfather!" As the journalist's cameras started clicking maniacally, the man pushed the obviously publicity-seeking girl away. This was not his granddaughter. He knew because he didn't have a granddaughter. The patient wasn't really an amnesiac. He could remember his past perfectly well. And if he did have a granddaughter, he would have given her a hiding for posing and flaunting for the cameras like she was. A growl built in the man's throat. He didn't particularly like the media to begin with, and this girl was grinding his nerves. As he opened his mouth to tell her to get lost, she noticed the look.

"C'mon," hissed the girl almost inaudibly between lips frozen in a cheesy smile, "Don't you want to get out of here?" The man looked at her for a moment, then nodded. Once. Slowly.

Almost two hours later, after the tearful story about poor old forgetful Gramps, former commander in the Gulf War had been told, forms signed, bills paid, reporters beaten off, and Verna yelled at within an inch of her life by Dr. Fahzid, the man and his 'granddaughter' were walking quickly down the street after being snuck out of the hospital by the doctor. She was humming and for the first time seemed completely natural. He stopped abruptly.

"Look, little girl, don't think I don't appreciate getting out of that Mud Man madhouse. But really, I can take care of myself from here on, and you need to get back to your parents. I'm sure they're very worried about you."

"Hey, man," said the girl in a completely different voice than what she had been using at the hospital, "This wasn't my idea. You needed to get out of the hospital, and I happened to be the girl for the job."

"So who was the mastermind here?" Mona jerked her thumb upward.

"Him." The human looked up. When he looked back down, frowning, he noticed the Mud Boy standing in front of him. The very familiar Mud Boy.

"Oh, no," said Julius Root.

"Commander," breathed Artemis Fowl. He was even paler than normal. As Root looked on, he even began swaying a little.

"-but, you were-you were dead." His eyes rolled upwards and, very quietly and without fuss, Artemis hit the ground in a dead faint. Root looked around at the equally amazed Italian girl as he patted his pockets for a cigar.

"So, uh," said Mona, trying to sound casual as she took Artemis's pulse. "Were you?"

Reviews are appreciated. Seriously. I get high off them. While it might then seem like my reviewers are also enablers, they're technically not. The difference being people who don't enable regualar addicts are not in the type of mortal peril that people who read my stories and don't review them are.

Thanks to: Sir Gawain of Camelot, Trinity Day, Bananaz the Sugar Monkey, Trouble Kelp, Captain Ariana Trouble, TrisakAminawn, and Kates Master. A special thanks to everybody who took the time to write a long review. Don't you want a special thanks? Or even regualar thanks? The way to get that is virtually pain-free-REVIEW! Pain-free, that is, as opposed to not reviewing, which could have unpleasant consequences. Involving penguins. Believe me, you don't want to know. It also might hurt if you write such a long review that your fingers start to wear away, in which case go get a Band-Aid and keep on typing.


	7. Dinner

Random Quote of the Day is from Matt Groening: "Love is like riding a snowmobile across the tundra, when suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come."

Disclaimer: If I did own Artemis Fowl, I would be living in Ireland, my name would be Eoin Colfer, and I probably would not be writing fanfiction about my own story. I mean, whatever I wrote wouldn't be fanfic, would it? It'd be automatic canon.

-------------------------------Chapter 7

Root, Trouble and Mulch stared at each other. Artemis sat off to one side of the hotel room. Mona was out getting some ice for the lump on the back of his head, caused by hitting the sidewalk rather hard when he'd fallen in shock at seeing the dead Commander.

Artemiswished Butler was there. The bodyguard had been left a day ago, before they found Root, calling in old contacts at a police headquarters in Venice to try and find Holly. If it hadn't looked as though Butler had had a real lead, he wouldn't have stayed. Only the fact that Artemis had almost definitely located another fairy who could help (the boy at the time had no idea it was actually Julius Root), plus the knowledge that he would be rejoining Artemis in a few days anyways had been sufficient to make Butler stay. So now Artemis had called Butler to let him know of their discovery. It was still a nine-hour drive for the manservant, so Artemis was stuck for awhile, following up his own leads on Holly and watching Mulch, Root and Kelp get reacquainted. That is, stare at each other's human selves, starting but not finishing sentences. For a really long time. Finally, _finally,_ somebody spoke.

"Commander?"

"Yes, Major Kelp?"

"How did you come back-that is, we all thought you were…" He trailed off.

"Dead," finished Mulch helpfully.

"Dead?" repeated Root. "Well, I thought I was going to be. When Holly didn't get the sweet spot, that is-there never was one, I have no doubt-I knew I was a goner." It was actually kind of peaceful, he was going to add, but didn't."But I didn't." He spread his hands.

"Didn't what?"

"Die. I didn't die, Kelp. I was never dead." Root seemed to be staring off into the distance for a moment. Trouble and Mulch looked at each other.Julius shook his head vigorously, as though attempting to get water out of his ears, then asked loudly "How is Holly, by the way?" Mulch and Trouble looked at each other some more. A frown creased Root's forehead, and the faintest red tinge appeared.

"Don't tell me she turned down her promotion." Neither Mulch nor Trouble wanted to tell Root that she'd quit outright and was now missing. Mulch took a deep breath.

"Well-"

"That's right, sir." Trouble spoke over him, staring straight ahead. "She turned down her promotion." Mulch stared. Mr. Loyal Jock, lying to his commander? Well, she _had_ turned down her promotion…in a sense…the question was, _why?_ Not 'why did Holly turn down her promotion,' but 'why is Kelp bothering to lie?'

"You're not lying to your commander, are you, Major Kelp?" Trouble shook his head.

"No, sir. I am not." Another deep breath. More staring straight ahead. "She turned it down, sir. When she quit."

The was a silence, but a decidedly ominous one. The silence before the storm, the calm in the eye of the hurricane. The stillness just before-_wham-_ the tsunami hits the shore. Root's complexion went up a few notches. Then a few more.

"She** _WHAT?_**"

_---------------------------------_

_I'm -what is it?-a hundred and twenty-seven now? Nah, less than that, but still more than a century. And he's what, forty? Greg needs to be interested in girls his own age! _Holly said to Clara as she wandered around her apartment looking for her hairbrush. Nevermind that she_ looked_ like someone his age. Clara meowed.

Gina stuck her head around the door. "He's 35, not 40. You don't _look_ 127, if it makes you feel better. You are definitely a young 127." She paused. "Or did you say 27? You're 27? Seriously?" Holly's mouth dropped.

"I'm-I'm 30-D'Arvit, Gina! Don't you people _knock_ here?" Gina walked unabashedly in.

"The door was open."

"It was not."

"Clara pushed it, then." Much as Holly doubted it, her new cat did prefer opening the front door with her nose than simply using the cat flap. Ignoring the chilly silence as Holly looked for a retort, Gina flopped down on the couch.

"I had to come over for the big date."

"It's not a date. Greg just being nice, that's all."

"It is a date."

"Is not."

"Is too." Holly knew that either of them could summon up the maturity to end this, yet neither of them did enough to head it off until they got sick of it. Maybe it was a human thing. They only lived a century at best; maybe that was why they never seemed to grow up. (Except for Artemis. He grew up too fast for a kid...)

"Is not. Look, Gina, if it was a date, would he have invited you, too?" Gina considered this.

"He just invited one of your friends so that he didn't freak you out. And then I turned it down, thus _making _it a date. A private dinner for two." Gina's eyes glazed over romantically. "You know, Holly," she said in a suddenly much more businesslike tone, "Guys who can cook are rare and fine things. You-" She got a sweater thrown at her. Holly spoke as Gina clawed it off, laughing.

"Didn't you have that-thing-training class-whatever it was tonight? Isn't that why you couldn't come to Greg's with me?"

"Hm? Oh, no, I made that up so you two could have some alone time. But I-"

"Gina! It's not a date! Greg has taken pity over my war with this infernal oven," she gave the offending appliance a dirty look, "-and invited me over to his place for dinner so I can eat for once! He lives, literally, five feet across the hall from my front door and can probably hear everything we're saying!" She frowned. "He can't be interested in me. We're two different-" She stopped herself. She and the Internal Affairs guy were actually _not_ two different species now, temporary as the Thingies assured her that might be. At the thought of the Floaters, the frown deepened even more.

"You're too different?" Gina was incredulous. "You barely know they guy and already 'you're too different'. And he is _not_ just being nice. Greg has a definite crush on you." Holly ignored her and stared into her mirror, running her fingers through her hair. There was still nothing you could do with an auburn crew cut. In her opinion, that was a good thing.

"Why else do you think he hired you?" Gina pressed on. "Okay, so you can speak languages that nobody's even discovered yet. And you shoot like were born with a gun in your hand. And you can beat Neesha in the Squad Car Midnight Drag Races, _not_ that those ever happen and _not_ that you're ever telling him. And-"

"Okaythat's_great_GinaI'mgonnagonowbye." Holly grabbed her jacket and headed for Greg's apartment across the hall. She was a little early, but anything to get away from Gina's smirk. Halfway across the hall, she stopped. _Was_ it possible Greg was being more than nice? He was really-really-nice, and kind of cute, and-okay, fairly cute, but-

Oh no she did not just think that! Holly shook her head so hard her earrings slapped her cheeks as though to clear the thought from her head. It was this D'Arviting human body. Only a hundred years of life. Child-capable for barely forty. Human Holly noticed guys a lot more than Elf Holly ever did. !#$# biological clock.

_That's all it is. Your human biological clock._

_-------------------_

_You're just being **nice,**_ thought Greg. Holly's a coworker. She lives across the hall. She is about as good a cook as your brother Bill, who burns pudding. So you asked her over to dinner, to be _nice._

This elegant little theory was proved dubious when Holly rang the doorbell and Greg nearly passed out.

---------------

Those who do not review shall be hunted down and hung by their figgin. If you don't know what your figgin is, you don't read Terry Pratchett. Those who do...um, you should review also. Sorry for the short chappie  
Silverfingers


	8. Alcohol

Woot! All hail silver, for I hath finally updated! Sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long. And I promise, Iwill update TLOTI soon.

Random Quote of the Day is from House, M.D. (speaking of which, check out my House-parody-fic if you've got the time!)

**Stacy: **"If you didn't want me working here, why didn't you just say so?"

**House: **"I don't want you working here. In my office. But anywhere else in the building is fine. It's a really big hospital." – House, M.D., _Acceptance_

_Disclaimer: Artemis is not mine. Excuse me while I sob._

It had been almost a month. Okay, eighteen days, to be precise. Eighteen days since Holly had gone missing. Mulch was getting grumpy. The Mud Boy had, for once in his life, failed to figure everything out immediately. A genius that didn't figure things out was just a rather pale and annoyingly arrogant person who talked funny. In metaphors, half the time.

Underneath the crankiness that was manifesting itself in miraculously vanishing food and housecats was worry. About Mulch himself, mostly, and whether he'd ever get back to normal. Human was all right for some, and even pretending to be a short one was acceptable, but being brought up in a culture where 'human blood' was a fighting insult meant that Mulch Diggums, on the whole, preferred fairy. But he was also worried about Trouble. Mr. Gung-Ho was becoming quieter, drawing in on himself. Not saying much at all. Downing espresso like it was water. Trouble was really very much worried about Holly.

------------------- **_One Week Later_**

"Drop the telephone receiver!"

Holly turned slowly around to see who had given the order. Small, pale, and-yes-hovering off the ground. It was her nemesis.

"**_You." _**The simple menace in that word would have stayed even Opal Koboi in her tracks. The Floater merely looked nervous, but then again it takes a lot to rattle that much compacted arrogance. Hadrian frowned. The silly fairy-human was not supposed to bite back. She was _supposed _to be so miserable that she couldn't focus. Her life was supposed to be a wreck. She was _not_ supposed to be looking so pretty-and full of life-and her apartment should not look at _all_ like a home.

Holly leaned against the countertop, but it was the lounging of a cheetah right before it decides to take your head off your shoulders with one paw-swipe for getting too close to its cubs.

"Any new orders? Maybe I'm supposed to wander around with my eyes closed from now on, just to make things interesting? Oooh-let me guess- no talking to Clara now? Is this all some demented _game_ for you-things?" Hadrian looked around. Great. Sarcasm. _Definitely_ not the hallmark of a defeated wreck. And who was Clara? A milk-white kitty meowed at him obnoxiously from the floor. A _cat!_ Oh no. Hadrian did not like cats. This must be a fairly recent acquisition, as it hadn't been here last time he'd visited. Not that Holly had known about the last time he'd come to check up. His race had none of the stupid preoccupation with invites. He swallowed. Best to deliver the new edict. "You are not to go on your date tonight."

"It's not a-" Holly paused. This one probably qualified as a full-out date. She was dressed up. It was a nice restaurant. But if she kept telling herself that Greg only wanted to be friends, it was generally easier.

"Whatever it may be, you are not to become any friendlier with this Gregory Human."

"Why? Will it stop Julius from coming back?" Hadrian swallowed again.

It was times like this he really wished he could lie.

"N-no. No, it will not stop your former commander from-"

"Then I'm leaving. Good-bye." She stormed out. Hadrian would have sighed, if indeed he breathed at all. It was good. Good that she'd left before she'd pressed him any farther. Because knowing that Julius was already alive and kicking would definitely boost her morale, as would her learning that Trouble was on the surface. They'd all find each other and they'd probably-his lip curled-_band together. _Ugh.

-------------------------

Hadrian materialized in the hall in front of the Senior One, who had a fetish for such human and fairy things as halls. And marble. And gold thrones. The Formorians were allowed to create any type of abode they wanted. It was one of the few things unaffected by rank. Unfortunately, genuflecting to senior demons was not optional, and so Hadrian was sprawled facedown on the floor. The Senior One banged his staff on the ground.

"Report." Hadrian started with the good news. Well, the less bad news.

"The Trouble is despondent, even though they have found the boy. Even the annoying dwarfling will soon sink into a debilitating slump." Senior One raised his eyebrows, catching something.

"There is more news. Tell me, what is it?"

"Senior One, the Holly is proving…resilient. A survivor. She has a cat, a home, almost a human _boyfriend._" The Senior One sat up.

"Is she going on a date with him?" Hadrian was bewildered.

"Er, yes, Senior One. She was dressed for it. At least it appeared so."

"Any….chunks of compressed carbon?"

"Yes. In her ears."

"Probably a date then. Almost definitely. Well, I hope she has a good time. Famous wine country down there." He smiled, reading Hadrian's face. "Thinking of turning me in as a rogue, are you, little Aldrian? Let's pop in on their little rendezvous, see if we can't change your mind. But stay hidden. Now, you will see why we have allowed her to live in the human world, virtually carefree, for so long."

------------------------

Holly smiled at some comment Greg had made, then looked down at her menu. It was completely written in Italian.

D'Arvit.

"Ummm…Greg?" He looked over at her. "Oh. Right." Holly loved how he never pried into why she couldn't read the languages she spoke, but instead started translating for her. The waiter arrived. She didn't remember ordering drinks. He must have ordered for her because she had been late. Holly looked down. Greg had gotten them both glasses of the country's famed red wine.

…_And though meals may be eaten and time may be spent with the fairy fae, if you wish to ensure that no harm shall come to you from the Greater Fairy Brethren then tempt the little folk into drinking with you. For any fairy who takes spirits with the Mud People, shall have their powers dulled to almost nothingness, and be forever dead to their brothers and sisters._

_-The third transcript of the Shamo Glossary of the People_

_Recovered from the lost city of Sh'shamo (human)_

_Commandment the Fiftieth: And as to the Mud People, them being a devious race, ye may accept both Foode and Water , but take care; for ye shall not drink of their spirits or else be forever lost to thy People, and thy Magick slowly but surely sapped._

_-The Booke of the People (fairy)_

Unfortunately, half of Holly was thinking about the Floater she'd seen. And the other half was thinking about Greg, and about how she was acting more human every day. Which meant the half of her that should be thinking like a fairy , was not. And so she did not say anything about the wine.

Hadrian and his commander appeared in a corner of the room, behind of and unnoticed by Holly, half-hidden in the gloom of the ceiling. Anyone who did see them would later talk themselves into believing that they hadn't. Typical of lesser races.

Distractedly, Holly ran her fingers through her hair again, thinking about her previous encounter with Hadrian. Greg smiled, flashing his charmingly white teeth. Inwardly, Holly groaned. She shouldn't be noticing things like that. Greg raised his glass for a toast. She raised hers too, and they clinked together. "To new friends," he said softly. His eyes added, Maybe we can be more? Holly saw that, and it was breaking her heart. Especially since she wasn't so sure anymore why she couldn't be, you know, interested in Greg. She looked down at her wineglass, then back at Greg, who was drinking his. Back at the surface of the wine. She raised it to her lips, eyes scanning the surrounding area behind Greg's head. _Wait, was that-_

She stood up. Greg barely saved an excellent vintage from splashing all over the floor. A waiter converged on her, asking in hurried Italian if the lady was all right. But Holly stayed right where she was, rigid, fist clenching the tablecloth so that her plate also had to be rescued by Greg as it slid off toward the floor. She was staring at the spot, staring at the face-_no_, it was _gone; _he was leaving. She could see what was almost definitely the back of his head. Her eyes flickered, scanning the crowd, searching. She wanted to scream for him, run over, but her legs and throat weren't obeying her just now.

Greg was shaking her by the shoulder. He didn't want to, but someone staring unresponsively into the distance for almost a full minute when there was _no-one there anymore_ needed to be awoken by any means.

"I'm fine," she said in perfect Italian. For just a second, she took her eyes off the spot to look Greg in the eye, convince him everything was all right. When she looked back at the spot, _he_ was gone. Holly felt herself sinking into a sort of bottomless despair.

"It wasn't her," said Trouble tonelessly to Artemis. Artemis leaned back against the wall suddenly, as though he'd been punched. "Are you absolutely sure?" Root opened his mouth, but Trouble answered first.

"Yes. That was the woman from the database, but it was not Holly Short." He couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "She was on a date with a _mud man._ Holly would never forget who she was so quickly." There was a silence.

"Well," Artemis said eventually, "I guess it didn't make sense. We have to consider, after all," he sighed, "that Holly would have tried to contact me if she had been alive and in possession of her memory." Root was giving Trouble a funny look as the boy continued. "Although I thought this time, that it might have-"

"Actually," said Root placidly, lighting a fungal cigar, "I thought it looked quite a bit like Holly. Like your simulation of a human Holly, at any rate. And she was wearing those diamond earrings, the one her mother gave her that she wore to her Recon promotion ceremony. I haven't seen them since." Artemis looked at Trouble. Root caught the glance.

"Major Kelp here didn't have as good a view as I did." Artemis's mouth twisted doubtfully. The ever-inquiring Mud Boy was not satisfied with this story. Before Root could invent anything else, Artemis cut in cheerfully with. "Well, I think there is an easy way to determine if we have found Holly at last. Mona?" The girl emerged from the shadows, where she had been trying to convince a flea-ridden, highly suspicious tomcat that what it really wanted was its belly rubbed. He turned to her with a strange smile that made her back against the wall, suddenly looking a lot like the shifty tom.

"Oh no. No, no no. I am _not_ gonna help you." The boy looked mock-sorrowful. Mona shut her eyes, unwilling to admit that the battle was already lost.

"No, no, _no!"_

The next day, Holly walked into the office, determined to let her work clear her head from the night before. It wasn't Trouble. It couldn't have been. She sighed. It was Greg's day off, so at least she would be spared any awkward questions. Gina smiled and gave her a cheeky wink. Michelle, the department head, gave her a smile. She was returning the smile when suddenly her nostrils flared like those of a filly that scents something strange on the wind.

"Hey, Holly, how's it-"

"Hi Michelle." She spoke rapidly and urgently. "Tell me, do you smell that?" Michelle raised her head and sniffed, too. "No, I don't-wait, yeah I _do._ Kind of. A little." Gods, thought Holly, humans must be scent-blind. It's not like our noses are _that_ much better than theirs. Holly shook her ehad vigourously. It was just her imagination.

Later, in the restroom, she stared at her wide-eyed reflection in the mirror. The smell was even getting in _here._ But that smell…that smell couldn't exist anywhere above ground. It _didn't _exist. Was she losing her mind? Suddenly, a new thought occurred to Holly. Were the little pale things playing a joke on her? They had better not be, if Mr. You-May-Not-See-Greg wanted to come away from their next little meeting intact. She balled her fists. That must be it. _They _had planted the smell.

Luckily, she was able to get an assignment taking her outside the building almost immediately, so she didn't have to wait around for the humans to come in and fritter around pointlessly with the vents.

Holly worked late, and got home around eight thirty. Clara had been waiting for her outside, and slinked in ahead of her as she entered her darkened apartment. Clara never did like using that cat flap. Holly wearily tossed her coat onto the couch, then flicked the lights on. The little white cat was nowhere to be seen.

"Clara?" The kitchen was still dark. Holly got the feeling that she was being watched. Probably just the cat, lurking on top of the refrigerator to jump, claws outstretched, on top of Holly's head. Again. She sighed, then turned around, then nearly screamed.

A familiar-looking Irish boy was standing at the door to her bedroom, holding Clara in his arms.

"Hello, Holly."

FOOTNOTES:

1. The Sh'shamo thing was in Book One. It was given as the reason why Artemis and Butler could not simply have kidnapped the alcoholic sprite. Read it if you don't believe me. the Booke part is made up; I assumed that if the alcohol thing was true then it would be in there.

2. I think everybody should notice that I revealed what the Little Pale Thingies are. Also, it would be really gratifying is you were puzzled about what the smell was. Like, puzzled out of your _minds_ at my awesome cleverness. Thanks a bundle.

The floor is lava,

Silverfingers


	9. Reunion

Okay, so it's a little late. It is here, though...what you've all been eagerly waiting for...An update! W00T! Yay for me. Disclaimer: I really, really wish I owned Arty and co. But then again...

Random Quote of the Day: "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride"

(Heck, I think everyone would ride, not just beggars. And what would happen if you wished for a horse? But nonetheless, it is a valid aphorism.)

Thanks to eveyrone who reviewed last time: me-obviously, frenchpiment, Trouble Kelp, Kates Master, IwuvMyKenshyPoo, CoffeeAndCherryBrandy, Sir Gawain of Camelot, obsessed4life, Queen Dragon, Kelsey Estel, refloc, Captain Arianna Trouble, horsiegurl, xXxTroubleKelpxXx, .TrisakAminawn, and lilacpurple. Whoa, that's a LOT. Lilacpurple did not beta this chapter, but if I ahd wanted her to, she totally would have. She might beta yours, too. E-mail her and ask.

Ok, ok, I get it.On with the chappie!

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_A familiar-looking Irish boy was standing at the door to her bedroom, holding Clara in his arms. _

"_Hello, Holly." he said. _

Holly stared. And stared and stared and stared.

Holly didn't have many true friends. The commander had been one, Foaly was another, Trouble as well. Artemis, however…Artemis was a friend, okay, but a little weird. Their relationship had started when he'd kidnapped her. She went through phases of being torn between wanting to take the Mud Boy on a forced march with her boot in his butt, and wanting to ruffle his hair. Seeing a friend here in her surface prison-

But wait…._Julius_….sure, catching up would be nice and all, but not if it meant Julius would never come back. That's what the Thingies had told her.

"Artemis…" she croaked. He looked concerned. "What?"

"You have to go. Julius." The boy went blank.

"_Who told you about that?_" Now it was Holly's turn for bewilderment.

"Who told me about _what_?"

"Julius."

"What about him? Artemis-"

"Calm yourself, Captain." said Artemis shortly. If Foaly had been there, he would have sighed. Short and Fowl. At each other's throats _again_ in less than five minutes after meeting. Typical.

"I am referring to the fact that Julius Root is back." Holly's mouth open and shut in shock, but no sound came out.

Someone came out of the master bedroom. A tall human, with a powerful build and commanding air, even with the not-so-slight gut. Gray hair in a buzz cut, two-week-old stubble, and haggard, storm-gray eyes. Commander Julius Root, albeit human. But still the commander. Still walking the line between her boss and the closest thing to a father Holly had had in a long, long time. And then she'd lost him, and now he was back. Human, but back. She stood and crossed the kitchen in a dreamlike state. Time hung suspended.

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Root looked around a little helplessly as his best operative, a girl with nerves of steel whom he respected more than all his other officers, sobbed into his shoulder as he awkwardly patted her on the back. Artemis had made a beeline for the exit, pulling that weird Italian Mud Girl out the door with him. Root became aware that the sobbing was stopping. Holly looked up, hazel eyes red-rimmed, and wiped her nose.

"Sorry, Julius, but D'Arvit sir it's good to see you again" she said in a half-whisper. He steered her to the table where she practically collapsed into a chair and blew her nose.Holly looked up at him. Root had seen that expression before, on the face of the wife of one of his officers who'd just been informed of her widow status. Shock. He himself was a bundle of nerves, but next to Short the commander looked calmer than an underground lake.

"It's so good to have you back."

"Holly, Holly…I was never dead." Her eyes opened wide.

"Then all this…all this…I did nothing? It was for nothing?" As she spoke, Short stared at a trembling human hand, with tapered finders too long to wrap around a buzz baton. It suddenly balled into a fist and slammed down on the table hard enough to dent thewood. Her hand must have been in agony, but she didn't show it. Now she was trembling with fury. "I'll kill them," she whispered.

"I said I wasn't dead, Holly. That doesn't mean I didn't just come back from Hell." She looked at him.

"I'll still kill them, then."

"Yes. Wonderful idea. Now, before we get out the ammo," said Root, "who exactly are you talking about?" Holly was about to answer when the door was slammed open and Trouble came in, carrying the limp body of Artemis. Mona was hovering behind him with a look of mixed worry for Artemis and awe at Trouble, a guy she'd previously thought was kind of wimpy. With a grunt, he laid the boy down on the sofa. Root stood up in surprise. A moment later, Holly also stood, but her gaze was not on the boy.

"That's odd," said Trouble, as if speaking to himself. "He passed out again. I mean-"

He was staring straight down, talking to the air. Holly couldn't understand why her friend wouldn't look at her.

"Somebody better call Butler-" Holly failed to register what he was saying. She wasn't even thinking about Artemis.

"Trouble?" The quavering sound of her voice made him look up, unwillingly.

"Holly?" They stood there, staring at each other; then Holly stepped forward and gave her friend a tight hug. They broke apart just as suddenly and went back to the staring thing.

Root suddenly felt indescribably awkward. Mona stared at the ceiling, cleared her throat and sidled over to Julius.

"I think they want some alone time." Root stared at her incredulously."Holly and _Trouble?_" Loud voices made him look up. Gods, he thought. A second ago Holly was practically crying again, and now they're yelling. What did I _miss?_

Root's soldier instincts suddenly informed him of a large, dangerous mass right behind him.

"_What happened to Master Artemis?"_Julius had forgotten how scary Butler could be. Also how quiet.

"He passed out again…Trouble says it's happened before."

"All right." The bodyguard relaxed slightly. "That's fairly normal lately. And he hasn't been eating much." Butler took Artemis's pulse. "He's coming around." Indeed he was. Artemis put a hand to his forehead.

"Did I faint _again_? I hope I'm not going to be making a habit of this, Butler." The boy looked around dazedly. "What is everyone yelling about?"

"Artemis. This could be serious. You should go to a hospital." Artemis waved his bodyguard's concerns away.

"No, I feel quite fine now."

"You felt fine right after the last time, too. And the time before that."

"Butler, if I cannot diagnose this, nobody at the nearest hospital can, either." Butler nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said, apologizing for not being there. Root raised an eyebrow. How could anyone, even a Butler, know whentheir Principalwas going to have a sudden fainting spell? "I was out clearing the residents of the other apartments," Butler continued.Artemis accepted the apology for Butler's not being there, knowing better than to say what Root felt like saying.

"What are Holly and Major Kelp arguing about?" Artmeis asked as Butler helped himto his feet.

"I really have no idea," interjected Root. "But then again, I haven't been listening."

"S'easy," sniffed Mona. "He's mad at her because she didn't contact him. She says she was trying to save you. He said she still could have done it. She says she couldn't. He says why not. She says the Thingies. Now he's yelling, what thingies. Now she won't say any more, so they're both mad and not talking to each other. You watch foreign soap operas, you learn to follow a shouting match in English. Oh, don't worry," she said, misinterpreting their incredulous expressions as Holly stomped outside to take out the trash. "They'll be back to yelling in a minute."

While Trouble went out on thetiny balcony to stop everyone staring at him, Artemis heard voices in the hall. Holly's tired one, and a deep, concerned, male voice.The boypeeked around the door and saw a guy with a brown-gray buzz cut and wire-rimmed glasses talking to Holly as she dumped her stuff down the trash chute. The mysterious Greg, in all probability. AsGreg inquired about the yelling and as to whether Holly was all right, Artemis glanced back into the kitchen. Suddenly, he felt funny. Light-headed. Artemis leaned against the doorframe, willing the feeling to pass. It got worse, so he headed to the couch, ill enough to miss Butler's sudden concerned look. Mona sat down beside him.

"Hey big man, you better get over here, she said suddenly as Artemis put his head in his hands. "He looks green." Butler was there in a heartbeat.

"Artemis? Artemis-"

"I am _fine,_ Butler," Artemis said testily. Or at least meant to say testily. It came out a mite too testy, with a bit of a groan. Butler made up his mind.

"That does it, Artemis. We are going to a hospital now." He tugged the boy upright. Mona half-rose in protest.

"Bad idea, big man, I don't think he should be moved-" Holly suddenly reentered the room. One glance at Artemis and her huffy sulk evaporated to be replaced with something much scarier.

"_You_." The simple vehemence in that one word was terrifying as she slowly walked towards Artemis. Her eyes were not focused on him, but on something in the air around his head. Butler immediately rose, and stoode between his charge and Short, reaching for his gun. Loath though he was to act violently towards Holly, his nerves were already frayed. One wrong move towards Artemis would result in pain. Her eyes smoldered as she advanced toward the young genius, who was suddenly clutching his head as though in pain.

"Get the d'Arviting narna out of my apartment!" Artemis put his hands up in a vain attempt to placate her. He really did look green.

"Take it easy, Holly."

Butler did a double take, having finally noticed that Holly was not looking at Artemis, but at the area just above his head. Had she lost her grip? Or was there something there that he, Butler, could not see? He fumbled for the anti-shield glasses he still kept with him at all times and slipped them on. Nothing.

Just then, stabs of pain bit into his leg. The manservant barely stopped himself from shooting and looked down. Holly's cat was hiding behind his leg, fur puffed out and claws extended directly into his flesh. He looked back up in time to deflect a stool Holly had thrown at Artemis's head.

"YOU!" shrieked Holly. "Get away from him!" She was glaring angrily at Artemis. Who was allby himself near the sofa, swaying on his feet.

That was it; she was clearly insane. Butler moved quickly across the room, but while he was trying to pin her arms, one lashed out as though throwing something, and caught him across the face. It was nothing-a love tap-but it made his head turn. Maybe it was his optic nerves firing in protest at the blow,buthe thought he saw five tiny blue lightning bolts leave Holly's fingers and fly towards Master Artemis.

Artemis had collapsedto the ground, and was writhing and twisting. Monaran over and dropped heavily to her knees next to the boy. Trouble, finally hearing the commortion, had come in.

"Artemis. Artemis, try to hear me," said Mona. Artemis continued to jerk and twitch like a fish pulled out of water.

"No-n-no-" he stammered incoherently. She reached out to touch his arm, then jerked her hand back as he had another convulsion, andfrowned. Mona had seen something weird.

"His ears are-" The magic bolts flew past her and disappeared around Artemis. Mona stared back at him in shock. Suddenly he spasmed again, and a green light, wrapped in tendrils of smoky gray, flew from his chest and hit her squarely. The Italian girl fell back on her rear, blinking. Artemis abruptly stopped his contortions and lay on the ground for a minute, breathing hard but evenly. He suddenly stood up. Mona did also, leaning against the fireplace and breathing as though she had just run a marathon.

"Well, perhaps a visit to the hospital _is_ in order. Butler? What are you staring at?"

For indeed, the whole room had gone deadly quiet as they stared at Artemis. Holly even ceased to struggle. Then again, with Butler holding her it was futile in any case. Artemis was green. Very green. He practically glowed, but with an almost healthy look instead of a sickly pallor. Artemis frowned, looking around at the room. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror.

"My goodness, is that really-"

A hacking gurgle interrupted him, and the bewildered Irish boy spun around. This time Mona had sunk to her knees and was hacking and gasping. Today was really a day for getting sick, apparently. Also for green skin. Mona's complexion was waxingleaf-colored as well, but the skin seemed somehow _looser._ As everyone started to rush towards her, she raised a shaking hand in front of her panicky eyes. It was green, and scaly. She curled it into a trembling fist, which almost immediately burst into flame.

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**Well, there you have it. Review...or else. And no, we didn't find out what the smell from Chapter 8 was. You shall know soon, I promise. But review, because I write faster when I am convinced that millions of people are staring forlornly at their screens waiting for me to update. (while you're waiting, why not check out my other AF fic, The Luck of the Irish...)**

**The floor is lava,  
****Silverfingers**


	10. Flame

Well, first off, thanks for the reviews! I was frankly amazed at how alike some of them were. Sir Gawain of Camelot, Queen Dragon, TrisakAminawn, Captain Arianna Trouble, and AgiVega all guessed/asked if Mona was becoming a goblin and Arty a sprite. That's _five_ reviewers. (Yes, I can count. Kindly hold your applause.) I would like to point out that while he is green, and sprites are indeed green, elves are also green. Holly has nut-brown skin _with a green tinge_. I would also like to say that I did **_not_** just say that Arty was becoming an elf. He could be going either the elf, sprite, or goblin route by the timeI amfinished. Unfortunately, you will not have found out if you are right by the end of this chappie, because I heart creating suspense. I know, I'm horrible. And on Christmas Eve, too. Muahaha. However, if any of you reviewers _are_ right, I will be ladling out the praise about what geniuses you are when I do reveal what Arty is, which will almost _definitely_ be in chapter 11. Really. You'll all be blushing.  
P.S. Mona is going goblin. Just a confirmation, though you'll also get some in the chapter.

CHRISTMAS EVE UPDATE!111ONE! I actually updated TWO fics tonight. Reviews better come _pouring in._

And no, even during the holidays, I do not own Artemis Fowl.

Questions about the Origins of Mona: She was inspired by the character from The Supernaturalist, but she is not actually the character, i.e. this is not a crossover. I actually originally had her as a car-crazy mechanic until I realized how totally ripped-off that was (because it's exactly what the character from The Supernaturalist was, duh,), but the tough street girl image still appealed to me. Artemis needs to know some real kids his own age.  
I love her name and and decided not to change it, a) because it's not ripped off anymore (well, maybe a _tiny_ bit)and b) because it's hard to for me to write her with a different one when I've visualized her character as a Mona. The Mona from this story's full name is actually Mona Lisa, because her dad was going to be the curator of the Louvre until I moved her to Italy and realized Artemis wouldn't be stealing stuff from legit museums anymore.He can be the former curator of the Louvre. For those of you who have _not _read The Supernaturalist, you can just ignore everything I just wrote.

And to me-obviously: I dedicate this chappie to you for your amazing powers of observation. Root's eyes ARE brown, I remembered as soon as you said it. For spotting my error in chapter 9, you get…chapter 10. WaHOO!

_**merryXmaseveryonemerryXmaseveryoneandalsoahappyhanukkahwhichIbelievestartsverysoon(more of my eccentric line dividers)**_

Artemis was beside her.  
"Don't scream. It's okay." Mona made a choking sound as she suppressed the scream despite her incredulity as to whether things were indeed okay. Artemis's voice automatically provoked obedience in most people. (At least until they remembered that they didn't have to take no orders from no fourteen-year-old punk. This was the point in the thought process when Butler usually appeared from the shadows.)

She stared at the fist, which continued to burn brightly, barely breathing. Artemis watched her intently. If she screamed, that Greg would definitely be in here momentarily. The two green teenagers would be hard to explain. Mona was still staring at her hand as she grappled with what was going on. Artemis resisted the urge to start taking notes on this fabulous opportunity for a psychological case study and instead checked her ears. Green, and pointed.

She was definitely turning into a goblin. And he…_he_ wasn't turning into a goblin, too, was he? Artemis hurriedly stood and checked himself in the mirror over the mantel. Tall, thin, and green, but the process seemed to have halted there. Odd, that. Artemis couldn't remember anything about what was going on around him while he was on the floor. All he did remember was the mental image of a goblin.

Great. Wonderful. He was becoming a goblin like Mona. Artemis felt fervently that he could handle molting and even general repulsiveness, as long as he did not lose his intelligence. He had seen goblins in action; the thought was chilling.

Mona blinked and realized that when one's hand was on fire, one didn't have to take orders from people whose hands weren't on fire. She took a deep breath and screamed loudly, in a high-pitched voice. Clara yowled and darted out from under the couch. Artemis immediately clamped a hand over the girl's mouth.

"Holly!" he hissed, as a distant door slammed open, "go distract your boyfriend!" Holly blinked.

"He's not my-_why_?"

"Because," panted Artemis, who was having a difficult time keeping the angry Mona silenced, "Greg seems like a decent person who cares about you, and he's already suspicious. Would he or would he not come to investigate the source of a scream?" Holly hurried out to the hallway.

"Greg-stop-don't go in."

"Holly, what was that? Who screamed?"

"It's-I'm fine."

"You've been crying. Was it you screaming?"

"No! Greg-"

Mona had stopped screaming under Artemis's hand. He removed it.

"Calm down, Mona."

"I'm going insane. I must be."

"You're not insane."

"I'm losing my mind. I'm crazier than my Aunt Dora. They'll lock me up."

"Don't worry, I said. I know exactly what is happening." Mona looked up at him with new hope in her eyes, and was not screaming anymore. Which was exactly what Artemis intended. Everybody wants a genius to have all the answers. It could be a burden, unless you usually did have all the answers, in which case it was useful for calming people down.

"Dio," breathed Mona, in her first vaguelysane statement yet. "You're going green, too."

"Yes," said Artemis in a calm voice, easing her up off the floor. Mona barely noticed as he escorted her to the couch, one hand under her elbow. She was still staring at her fist and did nothing until he gently pushed down on her shoulders, whereupon she abruptly sat down, still in shock.

Artemis was about to say something-an explanation? A lie? Some of both, probably- when she frowned in concentration. _Whoosh_-a ball of fire appeared around her clenched fingers again, except this time she had done it on purpose.Mona smiled a childlike grin of pleasure. Just as suddenly, she turned it out.

_**merryXmaseveryonemerryXmaseveryoneandalsoahappyhanukkahwhichIbelievestartsverysoon**_

Holly stood blocking Greg's path.

"Greg-it's nothing." Greg's mouth twisted in a decidedly disbelieving way. His eyes were set, and his police instincts kicking into high gear. Holly didn't want him to see what was in her apartment. He had heard yelling. She had been crying, it was obvious on her face. He had to go in. Without thinking, Holly shifted her stance too, and crossed her arms. The sight of him might still make her a little light-headed, but just now Greg was unconsciously acting like every irate superior in full-blown I-Am-Your-Commanding-Officer mode Holly had ever faced. And Holly had never been good at taking orders.

They glared at each other, each instinctively squaring up for battle. Greg was a little surprised to see a rebellious glint inHolly's eye. Part of him wanted to back down. This was Holly. He didn't want to argue with Holly. The rest of him was worried and angry, and unaware of the interrogation-officer vibes he was broadcasting.

Holly was a little surprised that Greg was being this dogged. Part of her wanted to break down. This was Greg. She didn't want to argue with Greg. She had already argued with Trouble; she didn't need another person mad at her. The rest of her, of course, was slapping the weak part into submission. Greg couldn't take care of things. The only one able to get Holly out of this was Holly. Greg couldn't be allowed to see Mona-or Artemis, come to think of it. Holly was completely unaware of the hostility she was emitting.

Well, why couldn't he see them? It might be useful to have Greg as part of the conspiracy to Beat the Thingies. Except as of this minute, only she and Root knew about the Thingies. Artemis might suspect something, but Butler was going to kill her. She was definitely tempted for a second, but dismissed it. Think of the People. Always of the People. They came first, even if she no longer technically was one. She liked Greg, but didn't knowhim well eonough to trust him with the fate of her race.

They glared at each other.

_**merryXmaseveryonemerryXmaseveryoneandalsoahappyhanukkahwhichIbelievestartsverysoon**_

Flame on. Flame out. Flame on. Flame out. Mona was doing it over and over, staring at her hand, and truth be told it was getting a little trying. Artemis's nerves were already shot from trying to figure out what to do with Mona and trying to listen to see if Greg was barging in. He was also debating privately whether having Butler just knock Mona out and hide her in the closet for awhile would be too traumatic for her psyche.

_**merryXmaseveryonemerryXmaseveryoneandalsoahappyhanukkahwhichIbelievestartsverysoon**_

"Holly."

"Greg."

More glaring. Then-

"Look, I screamed because Clara left a dead mouse on my pillow, OK?"

"So there's no one in there?"

Everyone in the apartment froze, listening to see if Greg was going to believe Holly's lie or come in and see Mona. She had stopped popping fireballs, but was still green and scaly. Clara rubbed against Artemis's leg, but he managed to swoop her up silently before she began to purr.

Holly looked at Greg almost pleadingly, half-exasperated, half asking him to believe her. Every occupant of the apartment held their breath. Everyone except Artemis, who had a sudden, stabbing pain between his shoulder blades he was trying to ignore. It made him gasp and tighten his grip on Clara, who yowled and jumped away.

At the sound of the cat's scream, Greg made a move for the door, suspicions confirmed. Now something had scared the cat. There was someone in there. Holly grabbed his arm and looked directly into his eyes.

"Greg. I can handle it." He stared into her hazel eyes for a long moment, and then nodded once, without smiling. Stiffly, he turned and headed back to his apartment. Holly let out all her breath and suddenly needed to lean against the doorframe for support.

"I would have come in anyways," said Trouble. She looked over at him,standing there just inside her apartment.His expression was unreadable, but she thought she detected a bit of an apology in his eyes. Holly surprised herself by laughing. "That is because _you_ are more of a donkey." She grinned and so did he, glad their stupid fight was in the past. Holly felt a little more revived in the presence of her friend. She walked back into her home, pausing only to slam the door closed loudly. It was a little mean, she knew. Greg was only trying to protect her. But Holly Short was a big girl, and anyways there was nothing she thought Greg could do about the Thingies. The one that had been buzzing near Artemis was gone now, anyways. She tightened her fists at the memory of it.

**_merryXmaseveryonemerryXmaseveryoneandalsoahappyhanukkahwhichIbelievestartsverysoon_**

"My hand was on fire."

There was a slight pause.

"I mean _actually on fire._ It hurts a little now."

"That shouldn't happen," frowned Holly. "Goblins are fireproof," she said in Russian so that Artemis would understand and Mona wouldn't. HollyexaminedMona's hand. It looked red and slightly burned raw in a few places.

"Yes," agreed Artemis in Russian, "but they are also a yard tall, hairless, and stupid. It appears Mona has not made the full transition." Mona looked at him suspiciously, suddenly making making a shrewd (and correct)guess as to whythey were speakingthe strange language suddenly. She felt she had the right to be privy to any information about why her freaking_ hand_ had turned _green, _then _scaly,_ and then caught on freaking _fire_, but said nothing for the momen. Shejust made sure Artemis did not miss the look. Holly clicked her tongue and decided there was nothing she could do about the hand for the momentwith human medicines.

"Suck it,"she told the girl in Italian. Mona blinked.

"Excuse me, signora?"

"Suck on your fist. Your saliva will help the burnsfeel better." Holly turned to Artemis. "How about you, Artemis? How do you feel?" He smiled weakly. Inside, Holly marveled. One short year ago, Artemis never smiled unless some diabolical plan had been completed. Now he wasdoing itjust to reassure her. Not that it was working, he still looked ill, but…

"Holly?"

"Hm? What?"

"You were looking at me oddly. I _said_, I am still a little nauseous. And there is this ache between my shoulder blades." He rubbed his back against the chair awkwardly. Poor baby, he was sick. Holly mentally jumped. _Poor baby?_ Next thing you knew, she'd be ruffling his hair.

Artemis stared in astonishment as Holly absentmindedly ruffled his hair.

"I think," she said, "it's time to call Foaly." She looked at Artemis. "Can you hack the LEP network?" He laughed-actually laughed a genuine, happy laugh.

"You have to ask?"

_**endofchappieendofchappieendofchappieendofchappieendofchappieendofchappie**_

Hey, It's Christmas Eve/Christmas Day/A few days/weeks/months after CHRISTMAS! How about giving the amazing Silverfingers a REVIEW in exchange for the CHAPPIE? Ohmygosh IT'S JUST WHAT I WANTED!

The floor is lava (and tinsel and presents and Christmas tree needles) (all lavaproof),  
Silverfingers


	11. Transformations

Insights into the Mind of the Literary Genius  
Or, How This Chapter Came to Be  
Me: Hmm…How long since I updated this one? CHRISTMAS? OH, CRAP...

To make up for this, I bring you a present. Its name is Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony. It comes out September 7th in the U.K. and September 15th in the U.S.A. To read an excerpt from the book, go to the UK Arty fansite, I write calmly, but I'm EXPLODING WITH CRAZY JOY. Also, I'm upset because my fics will soon become even more obsolete, this one when LC comes out and my other Artemis fic is actually pre-Deception (but still ongoing! Check it out!) Anyhoo, I'm updating. This proves I'm not dead.

P.S. As usual, any words fused together were done so by the site because this always happens and they're not like that when I write the chappies.

----------------------------------------------

Artemis rapped his fingers on the desk impatiently as the sun went down outside Holly's window. He used to hate loading screens. They did provide time for quiet reflection, but then again he didn't always _want_ time for quiet reflection. If he reflected too much he used to get strange urges to not steal. Nowadays, he valued the break more. His remarkable brain was not nearly as interested in hacking the LEP mainframe as it was in examining the relative conditions of himself and Mona.

If he completed his transformation into a goblin, it was obvious he would lose his fabulous intellect. And frankly, his intellect was all he could count on. Would he be able to get it back? Would he still be Artemis without his I.Q.? The thought of being a goblin forever made him feel sick. Fortunately, Mona seemed to be progressing faster than him, and he didn't think there was an intelligence drop in her yet. He would have to test her.

"So all of you," he said, turning away from the screen, "passed out after flu like symptoms, and woke up fully human." Trouble and Holly nodded, Holly keeping one eye on the laptop. She wanted to talk to Foaly as soon as possible. Artemis started pacing.

"So…what was different about Mona and myself?" Holly opened her mouth, but was cut short by the Mud Boy's next comment. She shut it. It was clear he was just talking to himself.

"Well, obviously all of you were transfigured underground. So perhaps daylight or exact location has something to do with the potency of the transformation magic." Butler, a dangerous shadow leaning against the bookshelf, spoke up.

"The magic bolts Holly fired could have had something to do with it." Artemis stopped pacing.

"The magic bolts."

"Yes. Perhaps you don't remember. When Holly was attacking you, she shot blue lightning at you. It looked like her magic to me, but I've never seen it in bolts. Just sparks." Artemis looked over at Holly, eyebrow cocked.

"Holly, I've been meaning to ask you about that. Why did you fire at me? _What_ did you fire at me?"

"I wasn't aiming at Artemis!" Everyone jumped at the volume of Holly's rebuttal. "I was aiming for the Thingy!"

"_Thingy?_" Butler looked disbelieving. Artemis's eyebrows were raised.

"They're these…um, thingies," said Holly in a more normal tone. "I don't know what they are. They show up from time to time. They were there the day I woke up, and last afternoon. And I had a dream…"

_The dream…she was in the tunnel where Julius died, and a Thingy had been there…or was it many Thingies? She couldn't recall. _

"Holly? Holly?" Artemis looked alarmed. _Why am I just remembering this now?_ Holly wondered. "Holly!" Artemis looked very worried at her lack of response. Holly shook her head vigorously.

"Short," said Root. "These thingies of yours. What did they look like?"

"Small, pale." Holly said. She stared at her kitchen floor in an effort to remember. "Malevolent. Clothes reminded me of a Tunnel Blue spider." She stared off. Julius nodded to himself. "The Tunnel Blue spider, Mud Boy," he saidfor Artemis's benefit, "has legs sharp enough to claw through steel given enough time. They enter their prey through the mouth, reach the stomach, and claw their way out. One can kill an elf or human, and enough can kill anything else."

"I had an unpleasant experience with them once, Artemis," said Holly. "We all did," added Trouble. Root nodded again, this time uncomfortably.

"Ah."

"So. I give up," said Holly awkwardly to the room. "How did you find me?" There was a pause as everyone looked at Artemis. He stared at his shoes, lost in thought, then looked up at them all and realized they were expecting him to talk. "Can you all fill her in? I think I'd like to go give Mona a few I.Q. tests. Where is she?"

"Balcony. Only really soundproof place to put her."

"She'll still be trying to listen."

"No, she won't," said Butler firmly. Artemis nodded and left as Trouble began. "Well, Artemis digitized a picture of what a human you would look like after Mulch and I found our way to the Manor."

"After Mulch guided the lost little Trouble to safety-"

"Shut up, Mulch," said Trouble wearily. Holly flashed a smile at what he must havebeen going through. The thing about Mulch was that you had to let him grow on you, one of his many funguslike qualities."Anyway, Artemis realized there was an eighty-seven percent chance you were a human on the surface too. He hacked your psychological profile, which confirmed his hypothesis that there was a forty-three percent chance you were working in human law enforcement of some kind." He stopped. "So," continued Mulch with his mouth full, "the big man here found some kind of lead that turned into a dead end. Meanwhile, we heard that some 'amnesiac' had come stumbling out of the desert in Africa and figured it must have been another fairy, turned human and dumped somewhere."

"Why the desert?" Holly asked. Mulch shrugged and popped another half chicken into his mouth. "Dunno. Me and Trub turned up in the middle of some field, soaking wet."

"I nearly drowned. Woke up in a hospital."

"A _human_ hospital? Gods. It's a wonder you survived."

"Back to what you were saying."

"The Mud Boy sent his little friend in there to come get me out of the hospital by pretending to be related to me," Root resumed. "Fowl was systematically hacking the systems of every police force in the world and running matches for your picture. The Interpol base was huge, so it took awhile. About two weeks, to be precise. There were a few close matches, but your picture was clearly the nearest. Italy sealed the deal, although I was surprised you chose to live somewhere so close to Martina Franca." Holly winced. "Mona bribed a few neighborhood kids and we got chatty with your neighbors until we found out you were going out with that Greg guy in the evening. It was the perfect chance to spy on you without revealing ourselves." Holly stood up. She was shaking but barely noticed. "It _was _you in the restaurant," she cried at Trouble. "I thought I was going insane."

"I was there, too," said Root. "Recognized your earrings and got a better look at you than we got from your security picture online."

"Why not just find me? "Holly asked wearily, sitting back down. "Why not just tell me?"

"We assumed you had lost your memory or something. Didn't want to upset you. If you were not in fact you, or you were you but without your memory, it was a big security risk. In any case, there was a simpler way to tell whether you were Holly or just a coincidental look-alike without spooking you." Holly inhaled sharply. She already suspected what they had done. "Artemis lit a cigar I'd forgotten about and had Mona put it in a vent at your office," continued Root.

"The smoke. That smell. That was cruel."

"It had to be done, Holly, I'm sorry. Once Artemis saw the look on your face as you fled the premises he said it was you."

The silence that followed was broken by a cry from the balcony, followed by a much higher scream that sounded like Mona. Butler crossed the kitchen in one snakelike movement and flung open the door. Holly, Root and Trouble arrived, a fraction of a second later. It was Artemis.

_Time slowed. All Artemis was aware of was the pain in his back. It wasn't so bad, actually. Well, yes, it was bad. Not so bad as to make him forget who he was, however. _

_The curious thing was, he had forgotten. There was a wall in his head, preventing him from thinking. He couldn't have told you his name or even if he was human. But it wasn't the pain doing it._

The boy was alternately stiffening and curling up on himself, face contorted and fists clenched in pain as a frantic Mona kneeled next to him. His shirt was oddly bunched, making him look like a hunchback, although it was possibly just the way he kept convulsing. Mona put a trembling hand flat on his back. Butler jerked it away and leaned anxiously over his charge.

_There was a hand on his back. Now it was gone. Artemis writhed. He wished it would stop. He wished everything would stop so he could just **think**._

"There's something _throbbing _there," said Mona, shaking her hand. There was an expensive ripping noise and a horrible, squelchy sound like someone stepping on honey-soaked carpeting.

_Now his back was worse and Artemis's treacherous fingers clenched around the railing and in one movement, eyes still closed tightly, he swung himself over._

Something exploded from the back of his shirt but before anyone could get a look at it, Artemis had thrown himself off the balcony into the night. As the boy fell he opened his eyes, mind suddenly crystal clear for all the good that it would do him. Holly's apartment was four stories up. Artemis's brain was functioning even faster than usual as though eager to make up for the lost time. He grabbed the railing of a fire escape as he passed. The edge tore deep into his hands but it stopped his descent for a second as he hung there briefly, panting. Then the solid iron rung suddenly broke and he was falling again. Artemis had managed to swing himself a little as it gave way and instead of hitting the ground with a distressing cracking noise he fell into the building through an open window on the first floor, hitting the carpet in the darkened room with a brutal thump and scrambled gasping to his feet.

The girl in the bed sat bolt upright. She couldn't have been more than seven. As she looked at the ashen boy standing there and panting, she opened her mouth to scream. Artemis took his hands off his knees and looked back at her. He saw her eyes move to something just above his head. He was contemplating his options if she screamed when the little girl shut her mouth and instead smiled with beatific delight.

-------------------------------------

"No!" yelled Holly, looking over the edge, but it was too dark to see the broken body. Butler was gripping the railing of the balcony so hard it had crumpled in his huge hands, scanning the ground below intently with Holly and Root. Trouble was swearing weakly, his hand on Holly's shoulder. Mona was shaking, eyes wide in shock "I had a hand on his back," she was gabbling. "But I took it off and _then_ he pitched himself over. So maybe he thought I was pushing him?" Butler stared at her uncomprehendingly, since she was doing her gabbling in Italian, one of the few languages in which he was not fluent. On a good day he could get it, but sobbing girls are not the best enunciators. "He ever do anything like that before?" Trouble asked Root. "How should I know?" the commander replied.  
Suddenly Butler and Holly turned and ran for her apartment door.

-------------------------------------

"Are you the Tooth Fairy?" she lisped.

"What?" Artemis answered in Italian, too shaken to make sense of what was going on at first.

"Are you going to take my tooth? And I thought you were a girl. Daddy said you were a beautiful fairy lady."

Ah. This little girl thought for one reason or another that he was the Tooth Fairy. He bent lower and whispered conspiratorially.

"I'm not a girl. You're thinking of my sister. And yes, I am going to take your tooth but I have to come back later when you're asleep."

"Couldn't you take it now?"

"No, I could get into trouble for doing it when you're awake," said Artemis, going to the window. "But I'll be back later, don't worry."

"Come baaack!" she said plaintively. But the Tooth Fairy had already swung himself down onto the darkened grassy ground outside the girl's window.

---------------------------

Holly ran back through her apartment and tore through the front door…right into Greg. Butler was luckier and slipped past his back while he was preoccupied. Not that Greg would have been much of a problem for Butler, but it was best to avoid conflict when time was of the essence. Holly cast a desperate look after the manservant and then was forced to turn her attention to producing satisfying answers for Greg.

----------------------------

Artemis raced silently towards the foyer of the apartment building. He was trying not to think about his back. Trouble was, his brain refused to obey him and he already knew what had happened, which was why he had to make sure nobody else saw him. Even if he was wrong about his back, he was still green.

--------------------------

"All right, Holly," he was saying. "This is obviously something you don't want me nosing in. But you know that if there's anything wrong," he stressed the word, "_anything_¸ you know you can come to me, right?" Holly looked at the floor. "Holly!" She glared up at him for a second, then softened and nodded.

-------------------------

Artemis stared up at the balcony. Suddenly his breath caught in his throat as he was picked up and swung around. "Butler," he breathed in relief when he saw who it was. The man mountain's expression was unreadable in the dark.

"What was that?"

"I…I don't know. It was like someone else was controlling my fingers." He glanced over his shoulder. "Or some _thing_ else, perhaps." Butler followed his gaze and turned pale. "We should probably look into these…thingies." Artemis nodded. "Agreed. As soon as possible."

--------------------------------

"This Greg person seems a bit controlling."

"Yeah," Mulch agreed with Trouble. "What do you see in him?"

"Because he's worried about me. And I went on one date, it's not like we're married."

"If you're not afraid of him, why are you sitting in your apartment?"

"Because, Butler will find Artemis. In fact he has; he just text messaged me. If I go inside my apartment, Greg goes inside his, and nobody asks questions about why I have a green adolescent."Holly was getting annoyed. First Greg and now this. "Okay, _Trubs?_"

"Trubs? Amusing." Holly and co. looked over at the door where Artemis had just entered with Butler. There was a group gasp.

Mona gazed at Artemis from the kitchen, brown eyes wide. Root and Trouble gaped. It was pretty clear that Mona was the only goblin.

Green, translucent and butterfly-shaped, Artemis's wings stuck up a good six inches over his equally green head. Strands of green membrane hung from the edges and they were partially covered in some organic jellylike film, but despite all that the wings were almost pretty. Purple veining formed an intricate latticework across their surface and they quivered damply, looking almost definitely as though they'd be ready to fly once they dried off. "I'm not a goblin," the boy said quietly. There was a grin on his face such as Holly had never seen before. He hadn't looked this relieved when they'd finally escaped from the trolls. It seemed the terror of goblin-ness was worse. "I'm a sprite. How do I dry these off?"

The laptop broke the silence with a silly _boop! _and everyone jumped.

"Okay, Artemis, you're a very clever little Mud Boy. Now will you please tell me why you've gone to all the trouble to hack my network and then just _sit_ there for twenty minutes? I have work to do and you're corrupting my data encryption." The room jumped and looked over at Artemis's laptop. The annoyed face of a centaur in a tinfoil hat was looking out at them all from it's screen.

"Holy…_Artemis, is that you?_"

"Unfortunately, yes, Foaly. And I'm not the only surprise." Artemis gestured to Holly and the others. Cautiously, Holly stepped into the laptop's line of vision. She could see Foaly's anxious face looking at her from under its tinfoil hat. "That's Artemis, Foaly. And this," she steeped back see he could see all of her-five feet ten inches!- and human to boot. "This is me now." His face sagged. She'd been expecting that. "You're-you're a human." She nodded sadly. That was when the unexpected happened. Foaly stepped back. And back a few more steps. Until they could see the Ops booth walls were opaque and that Foaly's number of legs had been reduced by two.

"Holly…you're a human. You're a human. Thank the gods, it's not just me."

-----------------------------

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry I kept you waiting. I love you all. And everyone who figured out that Arty was going sprite, everyone who saw through my incredible subtlety with annoying clearheadedness, all of you are geniuses. That's Mulch Diggums, DalekGun07, Queen Dragon and TrisakAminawn (I think.) But in addition, I think all my lovely reviewer. You all have no idea how much you make my day. Kates Master on various accounts, Moon Vampire, C.A.T.:D, Trinity Day, eMeRaLd, Asuka626 & spotzplaya888 (always love to get new reviewers), holifrant, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak, AgiVega, and me-obviously. Thanks for caring about The Luck of the Irish, m-o, I'llsee what I can do. :)


	12. Detour

Hey, everybody! It's an update! Please review now.

Random Quote of the Day: "Is this an intervention? You're a little late, since I'm not using drugs anymore. I am, however, still hooked on phonics."  
- Greg House, _House, M.D._

--------------------

Someone hammered on the door. Foaly jumped about a mile and hit his head on the ceiling. His new body was mid-height for a human male, with curly brown hair and panicky brown eyes. Not actually bad-looking, Holly thought. Artemis noticed that the former centaur was severely stooped and seemed on edge. Well, that was hardly a surprise.

"Hey, Mr. Pony," came the voice of a bored sprite from behind the door1. "Sool says, open up this shack right now and sign these forms." Sweating as he grabbed the back of his wounded head, Foaly wordlessly pushed a button. His image wavered, shortened, and stretched….and he was a centaur again. Holly blinked in surprise and felt a sudden gentle breeze on the back of her neck. Artemis had come up next to her, wings fluttering gently and creating a draft.

"It's a hologram," he said quietly. "See how his left hind leg keeps jittering? Look, it has actually disappeared now. The hat is matte instead of shiny tinfoil. A reflective hat would be harder to code, and he must have had to get this thing running in a hurry."

The sprite, not in the habit of counting the legs of the people he worked with nevertheless noticed the hat. "That a new bonnet, centaur boy?" he snickered as Foaly feverishly signed the forms without reading them.

"What? Oh….yes….here you go. That should do it. Now…get out! I have important computer things to do." The sprite gave Foaly a mocking bow and left. Foaly pushed the button again after watching the door to the Ops Booth close all the way, and then locking it. "Can't let it overheat," he said as his human form wavered back into view. "And actually, Mud Boy, I've been tinkering with this projector for awhile. I chose to make the hat different because _since when are you a sprite?_"

"It's been a day of changes for all of us, Foaly," said Holly as the former centaur furrowed his brow. "I've got a five-foot-something goblin around here somewhere too."

"Holly…" said Foaly reluctantly. "You need to get down here."

"What?" That was the last thing Holly was expecting. Foaly hung his human head.

"I'm telling Sool, Holly. I don't think we have much choice. I can't keep this charade up forever, and what good would it do anyways? I want the rest of my legs back. We can get you down here and then figure out what's going on." Holly stared at the screen.

"Sool?" Root grunted in disgust. "Can't we just leave this to Recon? I don't think it's his jurisdiction, anyways, and I'd rather not involve that greasy son of a swear toad."

Holly bit her lip. "Julius. Sool's kind of in charge now."

Root's face crept up a notch. "_Kind_ of in charge?"

"Okay, completely in charge."

There was a pause.

"…Sool?" Root said, staring into the middle distance.

"Yes."

"We should go down there."

Holly's jaw dropped at the commander's unusual complacency, but Foaly was already typing. "All right," he said over the tapping of keys, voice returning to normal as he began to calm down a little bit. "Go to Ireland. Get to Tara and I'll have a shuttle waiting to pick you up."

Artemis's wings began to beat a little faster. "How long will it take you to convince Sool?"

"Not too long, I should hope. But if worst comes to worst you could always go to Fowl Manor and-"

"**OUCH!"**

Holly jerked at Artemis's sudden yell and turned to face him, only to discover she was now eye level with his shoes. At the mention of the manor the boy had suddenly taken off so fast that he hadn't stopped until he hit his head the ceiling. Now he was hovering there with his untested wings fluttering madly as the group craned their neck to looked at him in shock. As Holly watched he banged his head against her kitchen ceiling with another painful _thunk_. The boy-sprite looked freaked out, to say the least. "No," he said firmly, or as firmly as you can say anything while bracing your arms against the ceiling to prevent your scalp scraping the plaster. "My home is out of the question. The last thing I need is explaining _this_ to my parents."

"Okay, okay, take it easy," said Trouble.

"You're hovering because you're nervous," said Foaly. Everyone glanced back at him except Butler, who was staring at Artemis and thinking about how he was way too old for this.

Artemis saw it in his eyes and managed a wry, green smile. "I know, old friend."

"Take a few deep breaths and try to come down slowly," Foaly advised from the laptop. Artemis shut his eyes, took a meditative breath to control his heart rate, and felt himself falling. Too fast. His feet hit the floor hard and he nearly fell over, but he straightened up with his wings almost entirely under control. Butler laid a steadying hand on his charge. Way, _way_ too old.

"It's an automatic sprite thing," said Mulch. "When you freak out, you hover. That's how you tell when a sprite is lying, his feet leave the floor. Hah, I knew this guy we called Floater. Terrible poker player; I remember this one night. Whenever he was bluffing he'd-"

"Thank you, Foaly," said Butler firmly over Mulch. "We'll fly over there tomorrow. I think Artemis needs some sleep." He glanced at Holly. "All of us, actually."

"I'm fine," said Holly, not missing the look. "I want to get to the bottom of this."

"Oh, we're not going to find out who's behind all this," said Root. "I know that already. We're going so I can get a look at what kind of LEP Sool is running." This casual remark was greeted with a shocked silence.

"You… already _know_?" Trouble asked, thinking there was no way it could be this easy. He had been bracing himself for several days of watching Artemis and Foaly pace around the room using word like 'quanta' and 'polymorphism' before they figured out what was going on.

"Yes," answered Julius. "It's the Formorri." There was silence among the group. Artemis frowned at the ground, remembering everything he knew about the Formorian race.

"The Formorians. An ancient, largely forgotten and according to most entirely mythical race of malevolent demons," he said aloud.

"Mythical," agreed Root. "Nobody believes in them anymore, or ever really did. That's what makes them so dangerous."

"How do you know it's them?"

"I just spent six months in their company. And it sounds like Holly's met one, too. Those Thingies she mentioned. They can't or won't control things directly; they have to do it by influencing individuals or little things. The Formorians are masters of the butterfly effect and manipulation."

"Butterfly effect?"

"It's an old saying," explained Artemis, "that a butterfly flapping its wings on one place will cause a typhoon halfway around the world. I think the Commander means that the Formorians learn to affect events by tiny, seemingly meaningless changes."

"_This_-" Holly waved her human hand "-sure doesn't look tiny to me."

"In the grand scheme of thing, individuals are unimportant. Changing your DNA might not actually have been that hard, Holly. With magic, in any case. When Opal was going to kill me they directed the energy of the blast so that it actually just sent me to their dimension. A direction change for a few molecules was all it apparently took." Root shook his head. "Six months of forcing myself to live through each day and that's all I know about them. But I do know that this isn't a people we can easily mess with. No giant, stupid goblin armies or egomaniacal schizophrenics; just malice and cunning and meaningless, demented games. I don't think they even understand themselves."

-------------------------

Trouble winced as Clara snuggled herself in between him and the armrest, digging her claws casually into his leg as she stretched. You could hardly blame the cat for not being able to find a space of her own; this was the largest shuttle model the LEP had but with eight human-sized people plus one cat it was cramped enough. Thank goodness Holly was flying the thing, because if they'd had to squeeze in a pilot there'd have been even less room. He envied Foaly sitting up there in the relatively roomy copilot's seat, talking urgently with Holly. That was as far as any jealousy of Foaly stretched, however; Trouble strongly suspected the centaur hadn't slept since finding out he was human. This theory was supported by Foaly's suddenly omnipresent anxiety; they were actually supposed to have met up with him at Haven, but the centaur had been unable to wait and had flown up to see them so he could talk on the way down. He was more a wreck than anyone, even Mona, who had had a hysterical fit when it came time to get in the shuttle, convinced she was insane. Holly had been about to mesmerize her as the only way to calm her down, but all Artemis had done was talk quietly with her for a minute in another room and they'd only wound up having to mesmerize her family to allow the still mostly Mud Girl to leave with them. She was snoozing uncomfortably in the fairy-sized chair, for which Trouble was glad. Artemis may have talked Mona into believing she wasn't crazy, but the whole incident was affecting her rather oddly.

"You didn't tell him yet?" Holly had just said quietly, but not so quietly that Trouble had been unable to eavesdrop. "Foaly, what does Sool think you're _doing _up here?" Trouble shook his head. Foaly started to say something wretchedly but the shuttle suddenly screeched to a halt. Everyone was thrown several inches forward. Artemis's wings started up again, Mona woke with a string of Italian curses, Butler's handgun was suddenly poking Trouble in the back of the head and there were unpleasant noises coming from the bathroom where Mulch had been taking some leisure time. Only the restraint harnesses had prevented Holly and Foaly from concussing themselves on the quartz windshield.

Trouble looked around quickly and realized at once that he was too accustomed to human vehicles. Shuttles can't _screech to a halt_. They'd have to be hovering in _midair_. He laid a hand against the carpet quickly to make sure; there were no vibrations from the hover engines whatsoever.

"All right, boys and girls, that's as far as we go," said a strange voice. Holly and Foaly whipped around. The speaker was sitting right next to Trouble, legs draped languidly over the armrest, not appearing to have been thrown at all. Her ears were pointed like a fairy's and she was of human height, but there the similarities ended. Her skin, despite a relatively healthy appearance, had the all the robust ruddiness of something that has been trapped under a rock in the dark for a long, long time. Her teeth were pointed and there was something in her eyes and overall movements that reminded Trouble of nothing so much as a cat.

Cat...he looked around. She was sitting right where Clara had been.

"Clara?" he choked, almost dizzy with shock. The woman (?) looked at him disdainfully. "You might as well call me that, if it makes your tiny mind happy."

"You're on of THEM!" Holly yelled, lunging at her. The woman didn't blink an eye, just ducked back out of the enraged ex-captain's reach. Trouble caught Holly's fist as it sailed through the air, blocking the punch. "Easy, Holly," he said. She looked at him, caught up in fury, but with a tremendous effort composed herself. Trouble let go of her arms.

"Ah, Short, the model of deportment," said the strange woman smoothly. Trouble jerked his head up and glared at the woman, who looked back unruffled. "Of course, the gallant but mentally lacking major. I see we also are privileged to have the clueless goblin-girl, the annoying fact generator with stalwart babysitter ever in tow," –Artemis waved sarcastically- "the monkey isn't around here for some reason thank Nare and the man currently a small step away from a nervous breakdown must be Foaly." She smiled at Julius. "And of course, the believer. We exist now, don't we, Julius? Been telling nasty tales about us to your friends?"

"Who's Nare?" asked Artemis, straightening his tie. Trouble marveled at his ability to ask questions like that at a time like this. The Formorian, if she was one, responded to the query as though it were perfectly normal under the circumstances.

"Nare: the traditional Formorion personification of Fate; thanks to Nare is an expression equivalent to human 'thank goodness' or fairy 'thank the gods'. Here used to indicate that I'm not as fond of the mobile compost heap as you all seem to be," replied the former cat without moving her eyes from Julius Root's staunchly solid features. When she had examined it enough she turned and spotted the look on Artemis's face. "What?"

"I was expecting more insults, for one. And surely you knew everyone who was here when you transformed; why name everybody?" Her face seemed to harden in its cool neutrality.

"You want more insults? I will do my best to accommodate you, stupid puny small-minded human. You're an idiotic adolescent and you smell odd. Happy?" Artemis rolled his eyes. Hostile people were so annoying. Doubtless she didn't want him asking questions about her cat transformation for some reason. "And when I am in cat form I allow the cat brain to do some of the steering, so it was partly a real cat meowing for tuna every morning, Holly," she addressed the last comment to the captain with a smile. Holly's fists tingled. She was about to barely settle for a biting retort when she was surprised by Trouble snarling "That's Captain Short to you…civilian."

"Trouble?" Holly said, surprised. "I'm a detective now, not a-"

"Of course I will respect your wishes as to her title," said Clara, inclining her head politely in Trouble's direction. Again, the group was surprised. But not as surprised as they were when she popped the hatch and jumped out of the shuttle.

"What the-" Trouble began, staring at the hatch.

"We've landed," announced Artemis matter-of-factly to the surprised group.

"Where?" Holly asked, momentarily relieved.

The boy genius shrugged. "Don't look at me."

"I didn't feel anything," wondered Holly aloud. "No touchdown jolt." Butler grunted an agreement.

A small white cat poked its head through the door, eyes glowing a lurid green. "Meow. Come on, Earthings, we don't have all day. The Citadel awaits."

The humans, fairies and humanfairies looked at each other. Finally, Mona shrugged, said something in Italian and hopped out. She was quickly followed by Artemis, who had a nagging feeling that one shouldn't let a lady put herself in danger. Artemis preceded Butler, who had an equally nagging feeling that before the hour was out he'd be longing for retirement again.

Clara's eyes caught the red light that reflected off the walls. They were standing on a shelf of primordial rock jutting out from the tunnel wall. It must have been two miles square, barely a pimple on the face of the wall. "Welcome to the Citadel." Clara said again. The strained group looked at her owlishly.

"I don't see anything," said Holly. "And I'd like an explanation as to why we're here."

"Awww," said Mona, eyes gleaming wickedly. Artemis looked at her. She pointed to Clara. "A talking kitty wants us to follow it."

Clara gazed at the girl scornfully. "Imbecile."

"Pretty kitty," Mona retorted.

Artemis noticed Julius Root was glaring edgily at the ground. Sure enough, just as Holly began to argue further, it opened up and swallowed him. Before Artemis could blink, a yawning black hole had opened up underneath their feet and all the other members of the party had disappeared into the ground.

Artemis looked down and realized his wings had caught him. The hole was below him, eerily silent. Artemis was sure Holly at least had been yelling initially, but not a sound escaped now. The hole itself didn't look real-it was too black. No shadows or gray areas. It was impossible to tell what the walls of it looked like. The whole thing resembled a hole in the world, a perfectly circular black stain on reality.  
Clara, human-shaped again, was hovering in midair with her arms crosses and glaring angrily at him. The annoyed Formorian flashed her teeth in a snarl that turned into a forced smile at the last second. "Get down there. You tiresome freak," she couldn't stop herself from adding.

"That would be quite a show of faith from me. One you have not earned," said Artemis, distracted as he tried to keep himself aloft with barely tested, madly beating wings. Clara realized the merit in his words and took a deep breath, trying to control herself.

"Look," she argued. "Just…trust me, okay? Your friends are down there. They are fine."

"Really," said the hovering boy sardonically. It is uncertain what would have happened next if Artemis's wings hadn't given out and sent him plummeting down the hole.

--------

Reviews are love. And I love reviews. If you people knew how happy they made me, you'd ALL review.

The floor is lava,  
Silverfingers.


	13. Welcome

Hey, everybody! It's an update! Please review now. After you read it, that is. Note: this is Ch. 13 version 2.0, Trisak having pointed out some rather embarrassing flaws the first time I posted this. Thanks, TA!

Random Quote of the Day, from jerrythefrogproductions dot com

Dumbledore: To avoid the complications of a celebrity childhood, let's have Harry grow up in an abusively snobbish family.  
McGonagall: Are you sure that's a good idea?  
Dumbledore: Trust me, this sort of thing breeds dramatic irony like you wouldn't believe.

-----

Artemis saw something red underneath him. For the second time in two days, he was briefly falling, brain going a million miles a minute. This time he hit the redness and bounced back up in the air, coming back down and landing next to Holly with an _oof._

"Hey, Mud Boy," she said, relieved. "What kept you?" Artemis shook himself vigorously and peered back up the way he had come, but all he saw was a grayish darkness. It was impossible to tell if the hole was still there. Looking around, he saw he had landed smack in the middle of the surface of something large, red, and soft.

"It's Jell-O," pronounced Mulch with some amazement. Artemis poked the surface. It quivered in a sticky way under his finger.

Holly looked suspiciously at Mulch. "What's Jell-O?"

"Food," answered Artemis for the dwarf, "but I doubt this is actually Jell-O. I _don't_ suggest you try and eat it, Mulch."

"No way would I eat this stuff," said Mulch unconvincingly. "It tastes terrible."

Artemis was well aware of the physics of a falling body and was unsurprised that it had taken cushioning of such massive proportions to break their fall. The thing was vast, disappearing into the gloom that it seemed to go on forever. The rumpled and annoyed figures of the party were just barely visible through the dim light.

"Is everyone safe?"

"Yes, but Mona might be in shock."

Artemis glanced over at the Italian girl, who was staring at her knees. Her eyes definitely seemed to have more of a deer-in-headlights tinge than usual.

"Where are we?" asked Butler tersely. Artemis opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a voice coming from somewhere beyond the darkness.

"The Visitor's Hall," it said, sounding like Clara. Holly squinted.

"Where is that coming from?"

Artemis noticed the focused panic of Mona's gaze shift to annoyance. She shook her hair out of her eyes and scowled over in the direction of Clara's voice. Still unable to see anything, she held one of her fists aloft and lit it. Artemis bit back a warning, unsure if the gel was flammable. The flickering light illuminated what might possibly have been an area where their gelatinous perch ended in black space, some ten yards away. "They're over the edge," she said, pointing. The group as one craned their necks.

"I don't see anything," Trouble complained. Butler, straining his hearing, caught a low mumble in an unfamiliar language.

"What was that?" he called. The mumbling stopped.

"Sorry," came Clara's exasperated voice after a pause. "We just forgot that you people were blind. Stand by."

Butler raised his eyebrows and exchanged looks with Artemis as Mulch mouthed "_We?" _worriedly to Trouble and Holly. They all had caught the word. Root's fists were clenched. "Clara's not alone."

A glow was beginning to spread, gaining strength like the newly lit taper of a giant candle. It illuminated more definitively the edge of the gel, about twenty feet from where they were seated. "Follow the light, morons," called Clara, whose voice now seemed to be coming from below them. She sounded tired.

Holly tried to stand up and the gel gave too much under her feet, causing her to fall over almost immediately and crash down on top of Trouble with a squeak.

"Oof-sorry, Trubs."

"No problem," gasped Trouble. Artemis stood up. From her seated position, Holly frowned at him.

"How did you-oh," she stopped, noticing his fluttering wings and the fact that the boy's toes were a few inches off the surface. Artemis held out a hand and Holly used it to pull herself up. The group watched in as she steadied herself on the wobbling gel. "It's not too bad," she said, bending and straightening her knees so that the surface flexed and wobbled under her. A few shaky bounce-steps took her closer to the edge, and she stopped to help haul up the fumble-footed Foaly, calling over her shoulder "It's easier if you act like it's a trampoline." Artemis was glad of his wings, having never done anything as frivolous as jump on a trampoline in his life. He watched her footsteps, noticing how the cube was indeed more like a trampoline than a flavored gelatinous dessert. Holly's feet never actually broke the surface. Foaly, less accustomed to two legs, was having a harder time. Butler and Root got to their feet without apparent effort. After falling once, Trouble managed to stand and pursue Holly with his own, less confident bounces. Mona caught Artemis's eye and extended her hand. "A little help?" Wincing at the strain on his raw wings, Artemis pulled her to her feet. She fell again, with a frustrated screech. Butler looked back abruptly. Artemis nodded for him to go on.

"Are you okay, Mona?"

"Don't help me up!"

"What's the matter?"

"I never asked for this." Mona thought for minute, unable to find the right words in English. "I agreed to help you with finding two of your friends," she said in Italian. "I'm good at that. I can help you with that. I can't help you with the whole underground-spaceship-turning into green things-thing."

"Of course you can," said Artemis, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. "I don't work with incompetents."

"Okay, then I don't want to. That's what I mean. Send me home."

Artemis sighed almost inaudibly. How to explain to Mona that he _couldn't_ send her home without having her lose her unconditional faith in his abilities and freak out?

Mona glanced up at the hovering boy once irritably and then looked back a second time, astonished. Artemis was frowning at the red blob beneath his feet, a single errant strand of black hair falling into his face. For the first time, she noticed how prematurely lined he was. His face was like the face of any other kid her age, but his eyes looked more like her grandmother's. The tears behind Mona's eyes evaporated at once, dried on the spot by a burning wave of embarrassment at her own behavior. This wasn't his fault.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly, holding up a hand to be helped up. Artemis, looking up, was floored.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, ignoring her outstretched digits. Mona didn't answer. Her face had changed, he noticed; she looked uncomfortable. As Artemis blinked in confusion Mona clambered unsteadily to her feet by herself.

"Sorry," she said again, swaying, and started to bounce off towards the others. Artemis stared after her. Butler watched Mona move unsteadily but determinedly past him and looked back at Artemis, impressed once again by his young master's ability to manipulate. He was surprised so see Artemis shrug in response, looking closer to being nonplussed than Butler had ever seen him.

Half a minute later, the group had assembled at the edge of their sticky cushion. There was a set of stairs hanging implausibly in midair, descending down about thirty feet to where they could see Clara's annoyed face illuminated by a white-flaming torch she was holding.

"Come _on_, mortals, she called up. "We don't have all day."

"Flyboy," called Holly to Artemis. "We need you to go first. If the stairs collapse your wings can catch you. Is that okay, Butler?"

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THE STAIRS," hollered Clara. "GET _DOWN_ HERE!"

Butler frowned. "I'd rather go myself, Holly."

"I think you may be too big for this job, Butler," Artemis said with a worn smile. Hadrian glanced at Clara's face and casually waved a hand. The Jell-O vanished and the whole group, even Artemis, were suddenly standing on the granite floor. Artemis looked over his shoulder in surprise. He hadn't felt his wings stop.

Clara was tapping her foot this point. "Take your time," she said sarcastically. With a flashing glare of annoyance and a deferential nod to the young man-shaped-thing standing next to her, she introduced him. "This is Hadrian, everyone."

---

Hadrian had eventually realized that even if his natural Formorri form was purer than Clara's human disguise, it was also about four feet shorter and made him look like a twit standing next to her. He had adopted the guise of a human for the time being and found it not that bad; his silvery robes swished much more satisfyingly when he walked. Like her, he had opted not to look like a _regular_ human. He looked like a Formorri human, and he took pains to make himself more Formorri-looking than Clara, as befitted his status. The difference between a junior servant to one of the rather higher-ranking demons in the Citadel and Clara, a Liason Clerk with no actual master to speak of, was all in the details: pointier teeth, redder eyes, and paler hair. Next to him the cat seemed positively human. He looked at the group by the light of her flickering torch.

"Hello," he started. They looked back at him. Clara didn't like her charges-smelly, human/fairy freaks- but she couldn't stop herself form trying to see them as Hadrian might.

She took another look at the defiant Root, the way unshaven Trouble was casting worried glances at an oblivious Holly, how the stocky dwarf-man clicked his jaws in an introspective way, and at the girl (continually wincing at some inner thought) standing next to the dazed centaur. Unconsciously at the front as usual was the tired-looking teenage boy with his silent shadow of a bodyguard. Well, she thought. I suppose their pathetic appearance is only to be expected, considering what they've gone through. Artemis raised his blue eyes and briefly met her gaze, and Clara felt a chill.

"This is the Visitor's Hall," Hadrian continued, and as he spoke their surroundings were suddenly lit up by a grimy glow coming from nowhere. Clara's redundant torch was extinguished. They were in cathedral-sized gray stone room with red hangings and walls that arched so far overhead that their eventual meeting to form the ceiling was largely lost in gloom. Various doors made of dark, dull wood were set into the walls, and the walls were decorated with shifting carvings of figures that seemed to be moving when seen from peripheral vision. A cold wind blew through the space, emanating from some unseen source. Artemis spun around and gazed up, but the hole from which he had fallen was not there. Hadrian's lighting illuminated only dull, impassive stone. Magic, then. Artemis turned around again to see Hadrian scrutinizing him and stared blandly back. "You will be staying here for the duration."

"The duration of _what_?" Holly spat. Trouble, ignorant of Holly's history with the still recognizable Hadrian, looked surprised by her vehemence. Hadrian felt sweat break out on his forehead and whipped it away with a personal breeze. Clara noticed his sudden discomfort but said nothing: causing a superior to lose face was not a good idea, and even she admitted to herself that Holly Short was one of the more intimidating members of the group. _Still_, Clara hummed to herself, _I know how to handle her_. She allowed a lovely glow of smugness to warm her from within.

"The Challenge," Hadrian continued smoothly. Spoken at a normal volume, it felt like a sentence that should have echoed impressively among the gray columns and reverberated boomingly off the high ceilings. The crew stared at the two demons, making Clara feel self-conscious. The silence stretched. Finally, the sentence was echoed by Foaly.

"The challenge? _That's_ why- " he waved a human hand "all this? Some challenge?"

"Not just some challenge," said Hadrian. "_The_ challenge. Come." He strode towards some of the shifting patterns on the wall. As they neared it, it began to resemble more and more a group of sprites. Foaly sped up, hoping that the species thing would soon be answered.

"These were the first contenders of the first Challenge, held in what was termed the Jurassic Period. At this time all fairies had wings, and they were the dominant sentient species. They were brought down here to face the demon's challenge and failed." Farther along the wall the carved figures were laying down, dead, in front of what was a blurred depiction of what looked like a dinosaur chewing on something, possibly a severed limb. Mona shivered.

"What is it?" asked Hadrian with a raised eyebrow.

"It's a little graphic," Artemis answered for her, placing a hand on Mona's shoulder. Hadrian frowned and looked at the carving. Similar works of art were in every part of the Citadel; he had known them since his infancy. _Graphic? _What was that supposed to mean? He was close to being confused, but covered it up and walked to a different section of wall, with a different stone saga etched into its surface; it looked like the Coliseum "After humans became dominant, we orchestrated the next great Challenge, with demons posing as lions." _Gladiator _had been one of Gina's favorite movies, Holly remembered as she looked at the frozen scene. Humans cheering on the destruction of other humans.

"Barbaric," muttered Trouble. She concurred.

"That one was won by the humans," said Hadrian. "Mostly because they eventually wrested control of the event away from us."

"So this one is the tie-breaker," said Mulch.

"In a manner of speaking."

"And why do we have to participate? What are we fighting for?"

"How did you change us?" threw in Foaly.

"Demon power waxes impressive, but it eventually…wanes. All that you see around you was built at crucial peaks of history, right before the last two Challenges. The rest of the time we are mere insects and must control our world by tiny changes, because that is all we can effect. Winning Challenges buys us strength."

"I don't believe that," said Artemis. Hadrian glared.

"And why not?"

"Why would you tell us?"

Hadrian laughed. "Because we are at a peak now. We are not vulnerable enough for that knowledge to be used against us." Turning away from the boy, he continued. "Every so often we have a chance, when our power is at its peak, to cement it. When we beat the fairies, we grew strong. Strong enough to build our city and fortify it with enough power to be called upon during the weak millennia. When we lost to the humans, we were weakened further. We have been slowly building back up since then, and now is the height of the next cycle, and we have strength and more to summon you here for the final challenge. The tie-breaker."

"Why us?"

Hadrian shrugged. "We have to select the most capable group. You have already saved the world more than once. It was obvious."

The group digested this. It was kind of obvious. "Well, we don't want to participate," said Foaly.

"Too bad," said Hadrian. "If you lose, those still alive at the end of the challenge will be returned to their original form and sent back with no memories. If you win, the memories thing is optional, although of course there may be things you would beg to have wiped from your minds. You can of course refuse to play, and we shall find another group. Of course, you will have to die to make room for them. It's a certain versus an uncertain death. Your choice."

The group looked at each other.

"Excellent," said Hadrian briskly. "Clara, show them to their rooms. The Challenge starts tomorrow."

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off, disappearing once he was about ten feet away. Clara, without comment for once, led them over to the dark wood doors. There was a nameplate on each, labeled in a strange tongue. Butler glanced at Artemis, who was frowning at the symbols.

"Do you recognize the language?" he asked quietly.

"No."

Clara placed a pale palm on the surface of the first door. "This one says Artemis," she said as the characters on the nameplate reformed into legible English with a flare of golden light. A grinding noise made the group look down to the lock of the door, where a key was rotating by itself. "Domovoi," she said, pointing at the next door down, where a similar flare and rotation occurred. "Mulch, Foaly, Mona, Holly, and Trouble." Each nameplate rearranged itself to be readable to the owner, and a key turned in each lock. "Your name, Major, is the only one with a direct translation into Ged, the demon tongue," she added with a smile. "My room is over there. It's the one with the cat flap. I will come collect you tomorrow. Goodnight."

After she was gone, Artemis pushed on the wood of his door and walked inside. It was a dark room with shadowy, luxurious furnishings not quite to his taste. Wrinkling his nose at the décor, Artemis turned to find the whole group had followed him in.

Holly flopped down on the gigantic bed. "Commander, did you recognize that particular streak of slime?"

"You mean Hadrian?" said Root, walking over to the fireplace where Mona was discharging a couple of blasts into some dry wood, starting a fire that began to crackle quietly. "They all look alike after awhile. But no, Holly, I didn't."

Butler sat wearily down in an armchair. "This is ridiculous. Why do they want us to do this again? Do we believe what Hadrian told us?" Mulch had found the fruit bowl and was sniffing a purple and green spiderlike fruit.

"He's avoiding answering the species question," Root noted.

"Or he feels like he doesn't have to," interjected Artemis. "The entire race seems rather arrogant."

"But…why? Why change us all?"

"It could be a psychological tactic…" said Artemis. "I was toying with the idea of ensuring the representation of all races, but that doesn't seem to fit, as we're missing a few."

"I'm part pixie," Trouble volunteered. "My great-great grandmother. I don't know if it counts…"

"We're also missing an elf, and a dwarf, and a gnome, and a-" Foaly continued in frustration.

"I'm a dwarf," said Mulch, spitting out a seed.

"And I'm an elf," said Holly.

"This still doesn't explain why you both had to be human."

"Yeah, whatever," said Mona. "Why do we have to do this stupid challenge?"

"Until more information comes along, Hadrian's testimony is all we have. Going by that, it seems the demons need to best the dominant species to solidify their power," Artemis said. "You know, you people have your own rooms," he added as Mona started to rearrange the little objects on the mantel. This last comment went largely ignored. "Why? What do they do with it?" demanded Holly.

"Well, they provide for their future. Building this city and so on. They don't exactly seem like the type to care about generations that won't exist for centuries….how long do they live?"

"Jurassic," said Mona. "That's when the dinosaurs died, correct?"

"Yes," frowned Artemis. A silence fell.

"Mulch," he said suddenly. "Do not spit that out there. I have to _sleep_ there."

The rest of the group snorted or chuckled wearily, but Mona laughed a deep, belly laugh. It escaped like a dam breaking and Artemis looked at her in surprise. The goblin girl had the same look in her eyes as when she had called Clara a pretty kitty. "If I'm not laughing, I'm crying," she said, grinning at Artemis, tossing one of the figures lazily in the air. "We should get some sleep," she added. Nobody moved.

"I suppose," said Holly. "Do you think it's safe?"

"In all probability," said Artemis. "Come on, everyone, I know I'm tired. We should get rest. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

---

And I'd like to thank you all for staying with me there. It got a little weird around the time everybody landed on a giant cube of ominous Jell-O, but I think we can all agree that 'Ominous Jell-O" would be, to quote Dave Barry, an _excellent_ name for a rock band. My favorite part of this one to write was when Artemis was annoyed at everybody taking over his room. Review and make me happy.

Floorlava,

Silverfingers


	14. Poker Faces

This chapter was originally ridiculously long. As in eleven pages long. So I cut it in half. And just to let you know, the second half is waaaaaaaaay better. Like a billion times better Like you have no IDEA how FRIKKING AWESOME it truly is.

Random Quotage:

…in 1905 Albert Einstein stunned the scientific community when he announced that ''e'' is equal to ''mc squared.'' Until that point, scientists had no idea what ''e'' was equal to. Oh, sure, they had known since the days of the ancient Egyptians that ''e'' came after ''i,'' except when both letters were preceded by a ''c.'' But nobody had ever even considered the possibility that ''e'' might have anything to do with ''m.'' We will never know what other amazing things would have been revealed about the alphabet if Einstein had lived longer. We do know that, just before he died, he told friends that he was working on ''something really big involving 'k.' ''  
**-Dave Barry**

------------

"Yoohoo," hollered an obscenely cheerful voice outside Trouble's door. He sat up abruptly in the big bed and went to get it frowning, yawning, rumpled and annoyed. It was Clara.

"Rise and shine, Major." He stared at her, rubbing his head. He'd slept for hours, but it didn't feel that way. Down the hall, a tousle-haired Holly stuck her own head out of the doorway at the noise, already on edge. Pajama pants and a sweatshirt: she had changed for bed, Trouble noticed as her eyes briefly lingered on his disheveled slept-in clothes.

"Ah, good, you're up too," said Clara at Holly with less sarcasm than usual. Trouble was starting to learn that all of Clara's moods were in fact different shades of sarcasm. "Meet out here in ten." The Formorri woman left, humming.

"Why is she so happy all of the sudden?" Trouble asked, flattening his hair. Farther down the hall, Clara pounded on Mona's door, grinned at the angry figure that opened it, ducked a fireball and cheerfully informed the Italian goblin that she should get her rear in gear.

"I think she'll be whatever emotion annoys us most."

"I think she's never really happy." Trouble realized how tired he must look. "Did you get any sleep?"

Holly shook her head and rubbed her spiky auburn hair ruefully. "I wish I could say I tossed and turned, but I was out like a light." She glanced down the hall. "I don't feel rested. I feel like I was up all night. Well," she said after a pause. "Better get dressed. See you in a minute," she said as she shut the door.

"Yeah," Trouble said a moment later, and disappeared back into his room. There was a closet. He had given it a quick but thorough search the previous night upon returning to his room. It had contained, to his surprise, several outfits in his size. Well, only one outfit, really, just several copies of it. They were the same clothes he had turned up in on the surface: a white T-shirt and jeans. Shrugging, he put them on.

This was all very unusual. Normally, Trouble Kelp would not have slept in a room assigned to him by an enemy or let anyone he knew go off to sleep in them either, but he hadn't had a choice. Yes, he had rebelled and searched his room for traps or bugs first, but he had done so with a part of his brain pointing out that if his hosts wanted him dead he would assuredly die, and so the search was pointless. Only the knowledge that Holly and probably Butler and Root would be doing the same to their rooms had kept him going.

Out in the hall, each member of the group looked relieved to see the others. All except Mona, who was standing with her arms folded and looking as though she would set them all on fire if she could.

"What's up with her?" he asked Artemis, who had just come walking up with Butler. Artemis blinked and gave Mona a once-over.

"She's not a morning person."

Trouble sympathized with Mona, who was now glaring at the unbelievably fresh Artemis. His suit even looked as though it had been ironed. Actually, it really did…

"Did your room come with an iron?"

Artemis looked down at himself, surprised. "No. I assumed these had been somehow pilfered from my room at home. I found this in the closet. Isn't that where you found your attire?"

"Yes…but this isn't mine."

"Hmm. Mona?" Artemis turned to her gingerly. "Are those your clothes?" Mona looked down at the sweater and jeans she hadn't been wearing yesterday and nodded. Despite the glare, she seemed ready to snap at everyone _but_ him.

"From home," she volunteered.

"And yours aren't, Major? That's odd."

"Well, I don't have a lot of clothes that aren't work clothes," said Trouble. Holly, coming up behind him, laughed. He jumped.

"That's true," she said. "Trouble lives in his uniform."

"You used to, too," said Root, giving Holly a look that suggested he hadn't yet quite forgiven her for quitting the LEP. "Pair of workaholics, the both of you."

Foaly came up wearing the same clothes as Trouble. Foaly was one who hadn't owned any pants at all, so perhaps it was a (slightly creepy) blessing that the Formorri were willing to provide clothes.

"Morning, everyone," said Clara brightly. Next to her was Hadrian. His appearance didn't seem quite so polished today, and had he had less rigid self-control he would have been yawning. Artemis noticed how the set of Hadrian's facial muscles was slightly similar to Mona's. Another non-morning person. He filed this fact away in his brain, as he did everything.

Clara, on the other hand, was a normal person's nightmare. She oozed cheerfulness and ebullience. "Challenge time, boys and girls!"

"Yeah, when does it start?" asked Trouble.

"Now," said Hadrian. "The Challenge begins now." He paused. "I remind you all that this is a Challenge hosted by us, devised by us. We do have to give you a chance. Not a sporting change, not a fighting chance even. Just a single, slim chance. It has to be physically possible for you to win. That being said," he flashed pointy teeth, "we like to tip the scale as much in our favor as possible. This Challenge is newer, different. And, we hope, _exceptionally_ challenging."

"Forget the Challenge. I'm hungry," started Mulch.

"Yeah. Is there anywhere here you can get a good cup of coffee?" Mona joined in.

"Breakfast is in your rooms," said Clara.

"No, it wasn't," started Artemis in surprise.

"It is now."

Hadrian sighed and held out a scroll tied with a black ribbon. "Here it is."

"Why don't you just _tell_ us what the Challenge is?"

"You might forget it. Here it is."

Artemis took the scroll, noting the bloodred seal.

"It's a riddle," said Clara. "It tells you about the Challenge. Solve it or you won't even know what's coming in the first event."

Their reaction was unexpected, and Hadrian couldn't stop his eyebrows from raising. He glanced over at Clara, who didn't seem at all surprised at, for example, the way Holly was _smiling._

Even Artemis's lips twitched a little. Was it possible this could be…fun?

No, he decided. But amusing, perhaps, and interesting at the very least. After all, he was a boy who spent his life looking for challenges. He shouldn't be so upset now he had found one. He broke the seal and scanned it briefly.

"That's it," said Hadrian, "get a head start. I remind you, you have only twenty-four hours to solve the riddle."

"Very well," said Artemis.

"So you'll want to retire now and solve it," Hadrian began.

"Yes," said Artemis, treating Hadrian to a polite look. "Now what?" he continued when Hadrian didn't get the message.

Hadrian's smile faded. "I'm sorry?"

"No; I do beg your pardon. I am not communicating clearly," said Artemis politely. "I have solved it. What do you wish us to do now?"

Of the group, Mona was the only one unable to suppress her giggles.

"Then you are wrong," said Hadrian stiffly. "You cannot possibly have solved it so fast." Artemis caught a glimmer of real fear building in the Formorian's eyes.

"He's right," added Clara. "We're all very impressed, Mud Boy, especially your girlfriend. But seriously, go back to your room and look it over some more. I guarantee," she said with her usual predatory smile, "you have not got it all."

Artemis paused for a minute and tucked the scroll back in his jacket. "Very well, then," he said, unexpectedly deferential. "Let's go."

Back in Artemis's room, there was indeed breakfast. The bagels, fruit and donuts tasted slightly odd, not very good but not poisoned, just inexpertly made. Foaly took the scroll form Artemis, scanned it, looked at the boy incredulously, and read it again twice. "What?" he said hoarsely. "You got meaning out of _this_?"

"I thought so, but we'd better take another look" said Artemis with a sigh as Butler looked at him, startled. The young master never usually doubted himself.

Just saying the words "we'd better take another look" made Artemis feel very self-conscious. But there was no getting around it. He had to be sure he was right.

"Read it out loud," urged Holly, impatient with nerves. Artemis cleared his throat and exchanged looks with Foaly, then began to read.

"The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the tunnel wide.  
The people out there didn't know the spider was inside.  
They grew and grew and their rolling tide pushed the spider down  
But the itsy-bitsy spider, it never hit the ground."

There was more silence.

"Are they _kidding_?" Holly asked.

Trouble sighed and started to explain for the benefit of the humans in the room. "Artemis, you probably don't know this. 'The Itsy-Bitsy Spider' is a fairy--"

"Nursery rhyme?" Artemis cut in. Trouble paused.

"Yes, I forgot I was talking to the fairy expert."

Artemis raised his eyes from reading the scroll yet again, more carefully. "No, Major. I never came across a reference to that song in my studies of the People. I know because this is a human rhyme, too."

"Really?" asked Holly incredulously. "That can't be." She started to recite it. "The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the stalactite-"

"The water spout," Mona said, frowning.

"Down came the rain," started Trouble, frowning in puzzlement.

"And washed the spider out," Butler's bass rumble added. They stopped.

"That's odd," frowned Foaly. "That one rhyme has survived millennia of separation between human and fairy. Ours is actually slightly different with basically the same meaning. It's so universal that in the human world two kids from two different cultures, one of whom never actually had a childhood," (Artemis blinked) "both know it. As for Haven, fairies who are born and die without ever seeing rain still teach it to their kids."

"The Formorri are an ancient enemy," said Artemis. "It's fairly clear that they are the spider being referred to; perhaps its not so amazing that the danger is so deeply ingrained into our collective consciousnesses. It has remained only in the form of a meaningless children's song, but it has remained for countless generations nevertheless."

Mona tried to pass him a bagel. "No, no thank you," Artemis muttered, distracted. Butler knew where this was going. Artemis often lost interest in everything but a puzzle until he had solved it. Not eating was often the first stage.

Mona whacked the boy on the head with the bagel. Artemis looked up again.

"You got crumbs on the scroll!"

"Eat something before the gremlin gets it all."

He took the food from her resentfully and was soon absentmindedly chewing on it, staring into the distance, the riddle in place in his head.

Foaly began to pace, staring at the scroll.

Holly exchanged a look of scared bafflement with Trouble. She'd hoped she would be able to understand the riddle at least a _little,_ but it was totally over her head. Even the fact that the spider was supposed to be the Formorians had been news

The room's gaze was focused on Foaly and Artemis, who were both pacing.

"Four lines," said Artemis, as though that was significant.

"Mmm," agreed Foaly.

Butler, Root, Holly, Trouble, Mona and Mulch stared at the two, then at each other. Mona pulled a battered deck of cards seemingly out of nowhere.

"Looks like it'll be a wait. Any of you know how to play poker?"

---

Half an hour later, it turned out that Mona was not as much of a poker novice as had been previously assumed, and those unlucky enough to have made that assumption were not doing quite as well they had thought.

"I played with Artemis a couple of times during downtime while we were looking for you," said Mona, laying down a straight. "Ever play poker with him? No? He twists your mind into a knot. I think my great-grandchildren owe him money. This is a relief."

No one showed any real emotion. Mona, too, found it difficult to think of anything but the riddle. She raised her voice. "Anything new?"

Artemis looked up and raised both his eyebrows at Mona, then looked down again.

"What does that mean?"

"It means stop bothering him if you ever want that thing solved," Root said from where he had been watching Butler clean his Sig Sauer with interest. He asked the bodyguard a question about propulsion. Holly and Trouble watched peripherally as Foaly and Artemis debated the riddle.

Holly felt antsy. "Think it's okay if we poke around this place a little?"

"Someone should talk to Clara," said Artemis without looking up. "We should find out everything we can about these people. And while you're at it, ask her what we're supposed to do once we've solved this thing."

"Why?"

"Because I think we've solved this thing."

"You have?" Trouble said, heart suddenly pumping.

"Yes…" said Artemis. "But I haven't found a meaning different from my original. Looks like I was right from the beginning. As usual." He sighed.

"What is it?"

Artemis struggled with himself for a second.

"What if I'm wrong?" Holly stared. Artemis seemed massively self-conscious. "Hadrian and Clara both seemed to think that-"

"Hadrian and Clara don't know you," said Holly firmly. "They can't read minds. Doubting yourself might be playing right into their hands."

"We don't know that," Mulch pointed out. "What does it mean?"

The group looked at its resident geniuses expectantly. Foaly started.

"Each line of the riddle details a different part of the Challenge. Taking each one separately tells us what they are. The one element tying them together is fear."

"It makes sense," Artemis joined in. "Ultimately, any obstacle is capable of being surmounted as long as we are _not_ afraid. Fear is their best bet for defeating us."

"The first line: "the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the tunnel wide." This refers to something involving heights or falling." Mulch went pale. Dwarves _hate_ heights.

"In the second line," continued Foaly, "people –that's humans and fairies- were unaware of the spider's presence in the tunnel. This one was harder to grasp, but fortunately there is a corresponding fear almost as powerful as that of falling."

"Darkness," supplied Artemis to the group's blank faces. "The second one will be darkness, as the people were kept in the dark. The third line indicates some sort of trial by water."

"'But the itsy-bitsy spider, it never hit the ground'", said Holly. "What could that possibly mean?"

Foaly and Artemis looked at each other. This one had been harder.

"The unknown," Foaly supplied. Artemis nodded.

The group paused. "That's it?" said Trouble. "That last one seems like….well, a bit of a stretch."

"Major," said Artemis impatiently, "I have produced some of the highest-recognized, renowned analyses of the works of Joyce, Shakespeare, Dickens, Eliot, and countless others. Some of the metaphors and symbolism in those works are so esoteric the author's own mothers wouldn't have had clues as to what they meant. Until me, there was no recognition of some of the more hidden layers. Believe me, I. Can interpret. Poetry."

"For example," he continued, "Each line individually represents a part of the Challenge, and fear is the element linking them together. But there is another layer to the riddle: it tells, in very condensed form, the story of the Formorians. They are the spider. Their genesis was here in the bowels of the Earth, even farther from the surface than Haven. They attempted to establish a foothold in the outside world but the growing number and power of the humans and fairies repressed them, and the spider fell. But it never hit the ground-just as the Formorri never died. They simply disappeared. What it leaves _out_ are specifics, like where we have to go to get this over with."

Holly nodded, got up and stretched. "Let's go." Trouble laid down his hand and followed her out the door. Mona, curious, looked at the cards they had left behind and blew out her cheeks with relief at a near escape. Holly's hand had been decent but not better than Mona's; Trouble, however, had had a straight flush. The girl exchanged looks with Mulch; the two reached an unspoken consensus and hurriedly divided the pot.

Trouble walked cross to Clara's room and knocked on the door. It was opened by Clara, who was wearing a sweater and jeans and looking for all the world like a normal half-cat-demon half-human. The sweater was green and cable-knit. It looked good with Clara's pale hair and skin but the whole picture didn't really mesh with Trouble's mental image of their annoying, irritable demon guide.

"Nice sweater," he said impassively. Holly blinked in surprise.

"Thanks," Clara said with a wide, sharp smile. "I knitted it myself. Now, Major: I'm sorry, but no hints. Not even for you, no matter how much sweet talk you try."

"We need to know where we should report," said Trouble, ignoring this. Clara blinked and the smile melted off.

"I'll tell you when you've solved it."

"We've solved it." Now it was Trouble's turn to smile. "So tell us."

"It's been," she looked at her watch in a panicky way, "twenty-seven minutes!"

"And we have some very clever people on our team. So what do we do now?"

Clara's eyes darted. "Let me check."

---

"'Let me check'?" Artemis repeated.

"Yes, and then she sent us back here."

Clara stuck her head in the door. "All right, freaks, let's get a move on." The group got up, each member glancing at the others briefly as though to reassure themselves that they were not alone. Holly looked over at Mona, who seemed happier today, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You're holding up well today, kid." Mona smiled back.

"I'm starting to think that when I'm with Artemis there's no point trying to stop crazy things from happening. Just go with it, you know?"

"Not a bad position to take. I guess I'm used to it."

Clara led the way down the hall until they met up with Hadrian, who gestured to the wall.

"If you have really solved the riddle, you should know what should await you. You must envision it for it to be." The group looked at Artemis. He sighed, and thought of the word _falling_.

Nothing happened. Artemis opened his eyes and saw that Clara's were huge. Hadrian was looking thunderstruck. He snapped his fingers and froze the brains of the mortals. It was a strain; he could feel his power ebbing and spurting instead of coming in a smooth flow. Not good, but it had to be done to save face. Hadrian didn't need Artemis hearing this next part.

"Clara, they understand the riddle!"

"Yes, sir. I recognize this as a problem, sir."

Hadrian allowed a power buzz to build up to the point where it would be setting Clara's teeth on edge.

"If you helped them your life will be pain very shortly."

"No, I swear! I would not help them. I did not. I am the Advocate, but I still want us to win, sir."

"Well, what should we do? We can't just let them solve the answer that quickly. You know them. What would be most detrimental?"

Clara thought. "Mix it up."

"What?"

"The actual events don't _have_ to follow the chronology of the riddle. Catch them off guard."

"So that's what we'll do?"

"Yes. I think that would be best."

Clara composed her face and snapped her fingers again. With luck, even the sharper members of the group wouldn't notice the lapse.

"Wrong," she said.

Artemis's face collapsed.

"What?"

"I said, wrong." Clara allowed herself an evil grin.

"We're starting you off with water."

"Well, we aren't actually wrong per se, argued Foaly. "You just-"

"What's the matter, Foaly?" asked Holly. Foaly was growing paler.

_"Don't you hear it?"_

A low rumbling was beginning to fill the hall.

----

So review and encourage me to get busy with posting the second half. Lack of reviews depresses me.

Also, cookies for anyone who can guess correctly one example of foreshadowing up there. You won't be able to actually see ti til I post the second half, of course.

The floor is lava,

Silverfingers.


	15. Drowning

Okay, to help y'all out I started off this chappie with the last few sentences from the last one. PLZPLZPLZ REVIEW!!!!!!! (Why yes, I am desperate.)

Random Quotage: Fishing is boring, unless you catch an actual fish, and then it is disgusting.  
-Dave Barry  
----

Artemis's face collapsed.

"What?"

"I said, wrong." Clara allowed herself an evil grin. "We're starting you off with water."

"Well, aren't actually wrong per se," argued Foaly. "You just-" He stopped abruptly.

"What's the matter, Foaly?" asked Holly.

Foaly was growing paler. Almost imperceptibly, he started to shake. "_Don't you hear it?"_

A low rumbling was beginning to fill the hall.

"Is it coming?" Foaly asked fearfully.

"I have no idea what you're-" Holly was starting to say when a blinding light poured down the hallway and forced everyone to close their eyes. When the group members reopened their lids cautiously, they were standing on hard, dry, butterscotch-colored rock. It was the bank of a roaring river, which plunged down over a waterfall to their left and coursed furiously away from them to the right.

They headed over to the edge of the bank and saw that this was no ordinary river. Was river even the right word? The sheer volume of the water was impossible to comprehend. It would have been ridiculously out of place anywhere but the Formorri's strange dimension- no crashing waterfall on Earth or hidden waterway underneath it could possibly have competed. Anyone going over these falls in a barrel would have been killed instantly, crushed before they had time to drown. Even though the group was fifty feet from the turbulent surface of the water, the spray still played across their faces, droplets thrown startlingly high in the air as the water plunged relentlessly on in its course. It was impossible to tell what color the water was; everything was whipped into boiling white foam by the crashing. The paleness was broken up only by jagged black rocks far beneath them. (Only the tops of the rocks were still pointy-the river had beaten their sides into smooth, rounded submission.) It was equally impossible to tell for sure how deep it was, but there seemed to be enough water to fill the Grand Canyon. What looked like ice floes were being carried along with the current as well, occasionally coming into brief, shattering conflict with one of the rocks. A tidal-wave's worth of water was passing by them every two seconds. Artemis felt ridiculously out of proportion to the titanic crashing going on around him.

"Look," pointed Mona. There was an absurdly tiny rope bridge anchored in the rock near the bank to their left. It sloped gently downward until out in the distance it was just a few feet from the frothing surface of the water and then headed straight out, then rose up again past that point. The far bank of the river-if there even was one- was out of sight, so the bridge disappeared into the spray.

"So we have to get across?"

"But how d-do we know that?" Foaly said. "Maybe that's not what this challenge is supposed to be. We haven't been told what it _is_-just what it involves."

Mona walked over to the bridge, snorted, and pulled something off one of it's anchoring posts. She returned with a piece of paper in her hands and handed it wordlessly to Artemis. It was charred, coal-black parchment with luminous red words shining out of it in English. The effect would have been better in the dungeons they had just left-out here in actual light it was just annoyingly hard to read. Artemis squinted and was able to make out

MORONS-

I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING.

SO _STOP_ THINKING AND GO ACROSS THE BRIDGE.

THIS MEANS YOU, ARMANI.

-_Clara_

"No, Foaly, I think we are supposed to go across the bridge," he said as he turned to face them. Mona gave him a grin, clearly impressed by the water but not overly frightened. Butler and Root were frowning with the effort of trying to interpret the Formorri's latest course, but didn't seem at all nervous. Holly was eyeing the torrent, trying to formulate a plan.

"Will you be okay, Mulch? I know dwarves hate heights." Mulch nodded.

"That bridge is barely ten feet off the water. No, heights are not a problem here. The problem here is the gigantic watery grave a-waiting to happen, that's what's making me nervous." Artemis smiled indulgently and continued his inspection of the little crowd, looking for possible problems.

"What about _you_, Artemis?" called Mona. "Are you all right?" He looked at her, frowning. He hadn't even taken a moment to consider his own feelings. He did so now. Despite the shock of having the Formorri mix up he tasks, he was fine. As long as he didn't think about it. Being _wrong _just made him so nauseous... He gave Mona a reassuring nod and continued to check out everyone else. Mona looked all right herself; Trouble looked unhappy and a bit greenish, but not nearly so much as…

"Foaly?" Artemis asked as the centaur swayed. "Are you okay?" Startled, everyone momentarily forgot their own problems and looked back at Foaly. He nodded shakily in response to Artemis's question.

"No, you're not," said Holly with concern. Foaly was a _very_ odd color, and tight-lipped. "I've never seen you like this, Foaly."

The workds "I just don't like water," escaped from between Foaly's clenched teeth. "I can handle it."

"Don't like water?"

Foaly swallowed. "I almost drowned once when I was a kid. We were visiting Atlantis and I was trying to get closer to an exhibit of native corals. Fell in the tank."

Artemis looked back at the water and sighed mentally. He knew it had seemed too easy.

"But I can handle it," Foaly was protesting.

Butler was glaring at the rickety bridge. "I don't like this."

"And you think I do? But it seems like they have to give us a chance. I wouldn't worry overmuch, old friend."

"That's just the thing. Why do they have to give us a chance?"

"It wouldn't be much of a challenge if we didn't have a chance of winning."

"But we _always_ have a chance of winning. Technically speaking. If they came straight out and dropped us into a lake of exploding fire we'd still have a chance, just not much of one. Why all the riddles?"

Artemis shrugged and looked out over the water. "Games have to have rules."

"But who makes theirs?"

He turned back to face his bodyguard. "I don't know, Butler. Don't think your points are not valid. I've pondered many of them myself. I think our best option is to play by the rules." Butler blinked.

"Until we know them well enough to start cheating," Artemis added, and his bodyguard smiled. That was the Artemis he knew.

"Let's do this thing," said Mona tersely.

"I'll go first," said Artemis. "If it collapses, I am most likely to survive." _I hope, _he thought to himself, twitching his wings.

Butler gripped his gun tightly as he watched his charge take his first few measured steps across the bridge.

"I think it's okay," he called back from ten feet out. "I would recommend we go across one by one," he began, knowing that this was the most logical thing to do in case the bridge collapsed.

"Are you _crazy_?" demanded Holly. "No way. It's too far."

"All right, send someone else over," he said with more reluctance than he actually felt, and with a guilty glimmering of relief. Butler came over next. As the biggest the bodyguard maybe should have gone last, but nobody was about to argue with the look on his face. Well, nobody would have except Artemis, who decided not to in any case and just gave Butler a smile.

"Once again, I see I have expanded your résumé," he noted.

Butler grunted assent. How different life would have been had he taken the job with the Iranian prince instead, fifteen years ago. He looked at the wet scene below, then at Artemis. A lot more boring, he decided, a thought which did not totally banish a last wistful yearning to be home, asleep. Boredom was preferable to some things.

A tremor on the bridge behind him- Butler turned and saw Mona had come out. She had lost some of her initial bravado and was gripping the sides of the bridge so tightly her swarthy knuckles had lost all color, but she was still taking steps. Slowly, slowly, the rest of the unit followed, heading downward as the bridge curved towards the surface. Butler looked back over his shoulder and saw that two people had yet to start: Trouble and Foaly. The former centaur's face was stark white. Trouble was behind him. The major muttered something and Foaly put a foot on the bridge, his face a mask of terror.

Trouble's eyes focused on the person just ahead of Foaly: Holly Short, concentrating on keeping her footing on the swaying bridge. He shook his head, thinking for the umpteenth time _this is insane_.

The band felt their way across the bridge carefully for what felt like an eternity but really was only half an hour. The end of the bridge disappeared into another side of the roaring waterfall, but at least this point was now visible in the distance. Tendon-straining tension still hung in the air but was easing as the group as a unit got a feel for the bridge, little by little. Reassuring smiles began to flash their way down the row whenever two members made eye contact. After they had been walking for a full hour, Root called a halt. The bridge was only really wide enough for one person, two if they stood facing each other. Unable to form a circle, they spread out in a clumped line. Foaly, unable for the past hour to keep his eyes off the water for more than ten seconds, nticed that they were over a relatively calm patch. And eddy in the crashing rush of current. This did nothing to lessen the hold of the vise that had gripped his heart and lungs since his first step onto the bridge.

"Is everybody okay?" Root asked.

"Strangely," said Mona, pushing her damp hair out of her face, "yes."

"We all appear to be fine," Artemis agreed. "This the halfway point. Look," he pointed back the way they had come. "The bridge's shape is, naturally, parabolic. We are currently at the vertex, the lowest point. The wood under out feet is almost touching the water. As we progress from here the bridge slopes upward again until it must reach a shore or at the very least some other support, approximately two miles in that direction." He pointed. "Exactly 8,531 more steps in that direction, at any rate, according to a few basic calculations based on our progress so far."

Foaly frowned. "This c-can't be right. They're not going to win by boring us to death."

Holly leaned tiredly against one of the rope handrails, causing Trouble to have a minor heart attack and grab her elbow. She looked down, realizing that leaning on a wet piece of rope over a thundering torrent of tumultuous death was not such a good idea.

"Oh. I guess you're right."

Trouble breathed out. "Don't take risks like that, okay? If they're just letting us _walk_ then they must be counting on us getting sloppy to trip us up."

"Actually," Artemis nodded in the major's direction, "he's probably right. That's why we should probably STICK CLOSER TOGETHER," he called to Mona. She had started walking ahead, eager to be done with the trek and trying to discern the end of the bridge through the spray from the waterfall way in the distance. She took a step closer, her eyes playing tricks through the rainbow-colored mist, and then halted suddenly upon realizing Artemis was calling her.

Mona turned back, hair bouncing as she grinned tautly. "Sorry," she started, and began to take a few steps back towards the others, back the way she had come. The others, all of whom had looked up briefly at Artemis's call, turned back to each other. Except Holly.

Trouble and Holly had been towards the rear of the line. They both had glanced briefly over at Mona, and then Trouble turned back to Holly. Holly, however remained staring past Artemis, over at Mona. She turned, her arm twisting out of Trouble's loose hold, and grabbed the rope behind her. Looking in the water.

"Holly-" Trouble started, concerned. He stretched out a hand-

-only to have it rudely shoved aside by Foaly, who was suddenly running down the bridge at breakneck speed.

Pushing past Root and Butler, almost sending Mulch toppling into the deadly river. Foaly was still five feet from Mona when the giant lizard exploded from out of the water, but he was close enough to see the girl turn back upon hearing the crashing as the bridge planks broke and, in slow motion, for Mona's laughing brown eyes to fill with fear.

Close enough, but still too far away.

Mona screamed, hoarse and loud and terrified. The lizard was enormous. Tall as he had become lately, Foaly suddenly didn't feel very big at all. Not that there was time to think of that. There was no time to think of anything, just enough time to make a desperate grab for Mona's fingers. The monster, snarling and snapping, had broken the planks of the bridge and the girl was about to slide into the frenzied, foaming water.

"Grab my-" he tried to say, but Mona just kept screaming. Instead of taking hold of his outstretched hand, she started hurling fireball after ineffective fireball at the giant lizard. Foaly was suddenly very aware of the tremendous volume of water rushing very near him. He remembered the awful grip that water could have. He was choking again, just like when he was five-

Another pair of hands were reaching into the water, and another. Holly and Trouble. His heartbeat slowed fractionally. His friends were here, the back of his mind noted. He wasn't alone this time.

"NO," he grunted, wet and -scared? Angry? The flashing foam and adrenaline made it hard to tell. It was going to get her…she was sliding in farther and farther as the current grabbed at the Italian girl's feet, then her legs, then her torso. The lizard had flopped back into the water. He could see it rearing its head back, flinging itself down to sink its teeth into Mona's arm. The water was rushing, Mona was sliding, people were yelling. He grabbed a handful of her sweater and jerked her just out of the way. The monster exploded out of the deceptively calmer water and hit the bridge full force, stunned…

_Momentarily_. In addition, his eyes caught the fin of a second beast approaching the thrashing girl. A distant part of Foaly's brain became…annoyed. It was like when Council wouldn't approve his budget. Or when nobody appreciated his ideas. There was an easy way to get Mona back up, Trouble and Holly weren't seeing it, they didn't realize her sodden sweater was hooked on a broken piece of wood, they weren't going to realize until too late. She'd be fish food.

Morons. He pushed himself halfway into the water, took a breath, and briefly submerged himself enough to get his entire shoulder under the girl's armpit and drag her down partially. Holly screamed without knowing it at seeing her friend and the Mud Girl go into the water. Then he exploded upward, unhooking Mona, who had stopped screaming out of pure shock as her mouth had filled with water, both of them gasping desperately for air even though they'd been under less than two seconds. Butler's massive biceps penetrated the world of confusion and laid hold of Foaly's shoulders. Foaly kept his arms hooked tightly around Mona as Butler dragged them, and didn't stop dragging him until they were twenty feet away from the broken section of the bridge, well up the other side of the parabola, with Trouble and Holly pounding up after them. Then Foaly's head finally cleared. He saw Artemis flying a petrified Mulch over the broken section, up towards them. The boy and dwarf landed, faces white. Nobody said anything.

"Wow, Foaly," ventured Holly finally into the silence.

Trouble was staring at the sky, shaking with anger.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO WIN," he yelled over the roar of the water. "I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU!"

"Okay, Trubs," said Holly, tugging his shirt. "Deep breaths." Trouble wouldn't look at her. "Major!" Holly snapped. "In through your nose and out through your mouth. Pay attention to me when I'm talking to you!"

That brought Trouble back.

"The first one was a Hainosaurus," Artemis was saying. "And the one that almost got you, Foaly, was a Megalodon."

"Megalodon?" Foaly said, lightheaded. "Almost got me?"

"Look at your leg. It bumped you on the way up." Foaly looked down. There was indeed a large bruise and a long, deep scrape on his leg, presumably from the beast, as well as innumerable cuts all over him from the broken wood. Mona was worse off, sodden and shaking and sobbing mutely with fear. Artemis sat down next to her.

"It's all right, Mona. The shock will pass." She grabbed Artemis's arm, tears fighting to escape between shuddering gasps into his blazer. After a minute, she surprised everyone by unburying her face to look at Foaly. Foaly, dripping and numb, wondered why he wasn't in shock himself.

Then he realized he was shaking so badly his whole body kept leaving the planks.

"How did you know?" said Root. "That thing was underwater until it struck."

"Yeah," said Trouble. "Holly looked like she thought she saw something, but you _knew_."

Foaly searched his oddly blank mind. "I-I g-guess I was just paying more attention to the water. Than you were."

"Because you used to be afraid," said Mona. It was the first thing she had said. Artemis patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"I still am," said Foaly. He looked down the slope of the bridge at the break. A fin sliced through the froth near it. He looked down quickly, but the water beneath them was at least ten feet away.

"Megalodon can't jump that high," said Artemis. "Don't worry."

"Megalodon? Which one was that? The shark thing or the lizard?"

"The shark thing. A tough predator. It preyed on whales."

"What do you mean, it preyed?"

"Well, it's theoretically been extinct for millions of years."

One by one, the group turned to stare at Artemis.

"Are you telling me I just got a-attacked by a _dinosaur_?" Foaly stammered. It was leftover stammer from his earlier shock, however; Foaly had no room left to be surprised by anything else.

"How is that any odder than anything that had happened to us recently?" Artemis threw his hands up. Butler realized how out of his element the boy was. In some ways he was more upset than Mona or Foaly.

Foaly paused. "And the Hainosaurus?"

"A type of giant mosasaur," said Artemis, rubbing his face. "Ate sharks when it could catch them."

Foaly nodded. Some of the feeling was coming back to his legs. He stood up shakily and vomited over the edge of the bridge. When he turned around, he felt better. He saw that Mona –a Mud Girl he had just saved from horrible, reptilian death- was okay. He realized that while he had been throwing up, he had been looking directly at the water with an absence of fear for the first time since they had started their walk-heck, for the first time since he was five. The group was silently watching him, all alive, with a mixture of soggy respect and awe.

"I think I involuntarily relieved myself back there," Foaly said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Let's go."

Staying rather closer together, the group followed Foaly up the side of the parabola, towards the end of the bridge.

---

Yeah, so I did _research_ for this chapter. For you all. Don't you feel lucky. And I'll have you know I rather dislike computer generated pictures of ancient leviathans, but I looked at them. For you. The only one that didn't freak me out was this shark called Stethacanthus, which I laughed at because it has what appears to be a broom head sticking out of its neck. I think other prehistoric beasties laughed at it, too, and called it names.

Originally for this chapter I was going to use Cymbospondylus, Hyneria or this one bad boy called Dunkleosteus, but they were all too small. Hainosaurus and Megalodon are both 16, 17 meters long and their diet includes whales and sharks, so they were considered bad enough to be in this chapter. (Hainosaurus mostly preyed on, like, birds and slow-moving stuff but it _could_ take down sharks when it tried.)

Just as a side note, a bunch of persons as cool as this needs a name. I'm thinking of calling Holly, Butler, Artemis et al."Team Excellent Amazing Fantastic Ultra World Saveriffic Norris Smackdown Comrades Hyperforce New With Extra Mulch" from now on.

Hope you enjoyed it. _**Review with comments or suggestions!!!**_ I often take advice form reviewers and will even repost a chapter if they catch an annoying enough snag.

The floor is lava,  
Silverfingers


	16. Falling

Kinda late…yeah…well, I hope you like it!   
Random Quotage: "Your brother has Ornithine Transcarbamylase Deficiency. You want me to write it down? Good, because it takes awhile.  
- House

--

"What was _that_?" yelled Foaly in wet fury. The rest of the drenched group had followed him with a sort of nervous courage through the waterfall, where they had found Hadrian and Clara sitting on a couch. Clara was picking at her nails, but it was their overall _dryness_ that irked Foaly the most. Clara hopped to her feet, but Hadrian remained seated and impassive.

"A Challenge," he replied calmly. Foaly clenched one hand on either arm of the Formorian's chair and thrust his manic, dripping face very close to Hadrian's. Hadrian wasn't unduly worried; it was only natural that the animals would become more so under stress. He was surprised when Foaly's eyes widened suddenly. The former centaur took a step back and stared at Hadrian with intelligence. Somehow, this brand of quiet control managed to be more threatening. For a long second, neither said anything. Hadrian raised an exquisite eyebrow with effort.

"Get away," he said. There was a pause.

"Let's go," said Foaly to the group in disgust. To Hadrian's surprise, Clara followed them out. A slight, sardonic smile was playing on her lips.

The team's silence ended as soon as they were in the hall. Clara noticed how they seemed to ignore her. They got used to things fast, even demonic shadows.

"What was that?" Foaly said again in outrage.

"That was them not playing fair," said Holly, giving him a hug. "You were brilliant, Foaly."

"You're a good friend, Foaly," Trouble added.

"How was that not playing fair?" Artemis asked suddenly. Foaly looked at Artemis in confusion, his answer to Trouble forgotten in his throat.

"What do you mean?"

Artemis was leaning against the door they had just come out of, staring at the stone at his feet. _If Hadrian moves around inside that room, Artemis will be the first to know,_ Clara realized. _Vibrations in the wood. Nare, is that how he __**thinks**_

"How was that not playing fair?" Artemis repeated. "Anything they feel like doing to us is fair play. This is the most ridiculous set of rules."

"It's not a game," said Mona, shaking her head violently. Her damp curls bounced and her voice quavered. "Not anymore."

Artemis waited for her to burst into tears, to ask to be taken home. But she didn't. Foaly slung an arm around her shoulders, and they headed off down the hallway to their rooms, Clara following without saying anything for once.

Once they reached his room, Artemis wheeled around to face her.

"Which one is next?" he asked. Clara kept her face smooth.

"Falling," she answered.

"So we're going in order now?"

Butler blinked. It was the closest to aggressive he had ever heard Artemis.

"The next one will be falling. See you tomorrow," Clara said with a smile, and went back to her room.

"I wonder what she does in there," Mona sniffed.

"Knits," said Trouble. "Come on, let's get you dried off."

The fire in Artemis's room was drying Mona and Foaly off, but they couldn't feel its heat. Artemis had been worried about this possible effect of hypothermia until he realized that nobody could feel the warmth of the fire.

"Is it usually like that?" he asked Root who was, after all, the only member to have been in the Formorri city before.

"Yes," grunted Root. "Their fires don't warm. And I always thought you couldn't have Hell without heat."

"Commander," said Artemis, "how much do you actually remember?"

Root started to shake with anger. "Very little," he said.

"But I thought-"

"Gone. I don't remember anything."

Artemis nodded, more to himself than to the Commander it seemed, and looked around the room, marveling a little at the human capacity to adapt. Everybody had their own room, furnished comfortably enough and fairly identical to his, but they had already developed a routine of gathering here.

"You're getting water all over the floor," he started. Mona's wet sweater hit him in the face.

"So are you," said Foaly, sitting heavily on an armchair and emptying his boots onto the fire.

"Point taken," said Artemis, hanging Mona's sweater over the rail in his shower. "_Try_ not to catch cold, everybody, I can't think of a way to get warm here. The fires aren't even warm." In response, Mona lit up, the fire traveling all the way up her arms to the sleeves of her T-shirt and immediately raising the temperature of the room by a few degrees. She smiled at him through the flickering flames. The effect was…he would have said demonic, but that was before he'd met actual demons for comparision. Mona looked much scarier than Hadrian or Clara.

"If all else fails, we could go find Hadrian. You could have boiled a pot of water on his face today," said Mulch to exhausted chuckles. Holly flopped down on top of the bed next to Trouble, who jumped. The others settled themselves into the armchairs, Mulch headed for the bathroom, and Artemis himself took a seat on the floor. They talked for awhile, and an hour later had all fallen asleep where they sat.

"We need to ensure that-yes?" The annoying human-goblin girl was standing there as though she was a part of his conversation with her Advocate, which she was _not._ Hadrian looked at Mona like she was lower than sea slug squashed on the bottom of his silvery boot. Mona, hands shoved into the kangaroo pocket of her sweatshirt, returned the look. With interest. Behind her, Artemis was waiting expectantly with Butler at his shoulder. He was rubbing his back, like his downy-soft bed was too hard for him or something. Root's hard eyes were glaring out of the hard lines of his face, chin gray-stubbled so that it looked lightly coated in steel dust. Foaly's arms were crossed. Behind him stood Holly, Trouble and Mulch, evincing varying mixtures of hostility, resolve, and bed head. Hadrian cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"We're ready," said Holly.

"Ready? For what?"

They stared at him. Mona gasped. Artemis opened his eyes. They were on a floating silver disc above The Empire State Building. But not the real one. The real one, Artemis was fairly sure, had people in it, instead of hundreds upon hundreds of dull gray windows. And even if Clara had managed to rent out the entire building for today's terror-fest, it was unlikely she would have been able to empty all of New York City. It was a gleaming tower of steel, high above a silent, too-monochromatic metropolis, and Artemis noticed a reddish gleam to the tower and subtle inaccuracies in the skyline that suggested this was a Formorian creation.

It was also, architecturally speaking, impossibly tall. That was another clue. This building stretched at least twice as high as the real thing, Artemis was sure of it. The steel and concrete should have been twisting, swaying and collapsing under their own weight. He looked upward, but all he saw was swirling white cloud.

Clara was with them, floating.

"Your mission is simple," she purred. "Get to the ground."

"What the-" started Artemis.

"You said you were ready. Next time don't speak until you're sure."

Once she was gone, everybody turned to look at Artemis. He looked at the ground, greener than usual.

"I guess I could fly everybody down," he gulped. "But I'm sure they will have thought of that." _It's way too far._

"I don't think he could carry Butler," Holly objected immediately. Mulch had his eyes screwed firmly shut.

"As long as he can get _me_ down there, I really don't care," he muttered.

"Let's steer this over to the roof," Artemis suggested. "If it falls you'll have something to grab onto on the way down."

He fired up his wings and stepped off the edge of the disk (Butler's heart skipped five beats). The group clutched each other as their platform inched closer to the spire. Artemis's head reappeared over the side as soon was the platform was hovering directly over the spire and soon he was climbing back on, panting.

"Can you push it down, do you think?" Trouble asked. Artemis shook his head.

"Already tried. It's set at this height."

"Is there a motor?" Foaly said, frowning with concentration.

"I already thought of that. No visible means of propulsion that we could modify. And I know I can't fly anybody down." To his utter astonishment, he felt a flush creeping up through his cheeks. Why? Knowing his limits was nothing to be ashamed of.

"Let's take an elevator," said Mona. Artemis looked at her. She pointed. "You fly us down to that window, one by one, and we exit through the building."

"I just told you that-" he started.

"Don't give me that," she said sharply. He stared at her.

"I'm telling you I can't do it."

"And I'm telling you we need you to try."

The flush was building, but he didn't feel embarrassed anymore. "Fine," Artemis said, not a little annoyed. "We'll try it your way."

Holly stared. Trouble stared. Butler, Root and Foaly stared. Artemis and Mona were oblivious to the effect their dispute had caused: that is, to provoke emotion in Artemis. Here they were, on a floating saucer on top of a skyscraper, and the boy chose now to develop a normal teenage psyche. Holly threw up her hands All right. Fine.

The only one not staring was Mulch, whose mind was currently occupied with a frenzied rush of frenetic thoughts, mostly having to do with how he was surely going to die.

With gritted teeth and shouted advice from above, Artemis flitted down to the first window and broke it, sending glass shattering into the room inside, which was empty but for shadows. Then he flew back up to grab the first person.

"Pick the lightest," Holly suggested, giving Mona a gentle nudge. Leaving Artemis to the business of figuring out where to put his arms and Mona to that of melting away her anger of before, considering the boy she was formerly angry at was now holding her life in his hands in quite a literal sense. She locked her arms around his neck in what Artemis would have termed a death grip, but which to Mona was very definitely a _life_ grip.

A muffled "oof" accompanied Artemis's stepping off the platform, but his belabored wings took him down ten feet to the building.

The window was whole. He stared in disbelief.

"Okay, people, there has been a slight-" he began, turning around, Mona's weight already making his arms hurt, not to mention the strain on his neck. He turned around just in time to see the saucer evaporate and, as if in slow motion, his friends start to fall.

Mona saw it too, and her mind went blank. Artemis's face suddenly filled her whole field of vision.

"Let go!" he demanded with absolute, fundamental earth-shattering firmness. There was no possibility of refusing, at least in that split second. Mona's arms dropped from his neck like limp spaghetti and Artemis _threw _her bodily through the window, turning as he did so. He didn't need to look to see if she'd made it. He had calculated the trajectory, and his grip hadn't slipped. And he had other friends to catch. Trouble was falling. Artemis dove, dove, dove, and _caught_ Trouble five stories down and laboriously flew him up, panting and trying to ignore the sinew-snapping signals from his green wings. He deposited Trouble on the spire, next to Root and Foaly, who had also managed to cling on. Artemis's brain kicked on, noting that there were three other people to be accounted for. His heart started to hammer when he noticed Butler, Mulch, and Holly. They hadn't gone anywhere. Butler was hanging onto the topmost ledge, his massive biceps straining. Mulch was holding Butler's legs, and Holly was holding his legs, so that she and Mulch was actually level with the ledge two stories from the top. Root and Trouble began making moves to help the swinging threesome, but just then it began to rain. Hard.

"You have _got _to be _joking,_" Artemis muttered.

Root slipped and Trouble made a dive, catching the commander by the very tips of his fingers. Foaly threw himself flat to help.

"We've got him, Artemis," Trouble yelled over the rain as they started to haul him up. "Take care of Holly!" Artemis flew down, grabbed Holly by her armpits, and heaved her up.

"All right, old friend?" he said as he flitted past Butler on the way down.

"_Hurry_" was the bodyguard's only response, fighting its way past clenched teeth and eyes screwed up against the pain and the rain. Artemis found extra speed. But it took time to haul Holly all the way back up, and her rain-soaked body almost slipped from his grip two heart-stopping, stomach-swooping times.

Mulch had his eyes shut. _Let the kid rescue you, and it'll be fine. You'll be fine. You'll be fine._" His supersensitive dwarf hearing heard Holly's grunt as she finally _thwapped_ onto the wet concrete above him like an exhausted fish, but he'd also heard her gasps each time Artemis almost lost his grip.

Now he was hearing something else, too. And smelling…blood?

Against every instinct, Mulch opened his eyes. And saw something bad. Mona's feet. Mona had barely cracked the window when she'd hit it. She'd been hanging off the window ledge since she'd been thrown, just above Mulch, too scared to move or make a sound.

Mulch noticed this. He noticed that nobody else had noticed. And he noticed one other thing-her grip was slipping.

Nobody was going to notice until too late. Mona was going to die. Nobody could save her.

_What about you?_

It was a voice he was unaccustomed to hearing. Had Mulch been familiar enough with it to name it, he would have called it his conscience.

**Me? I hate heights.**

He saw two more things: Artemis, coming to get him. He was next in line to be saved. Then the big man could heave himself up while Artemis was saving the girl. After he had saved Mulch.

_She's not going to last that long. _

**Who asked you?**

Artemis was flying down to get Mulch, wishing he had taken more than the five seconds he dared to rest his screaming wings. Mulch had started to swing back and forth on Butler's legs like a pendulum. This was making it difficult for Butler to hang on.

"Mulch! Stop!"

It was impossible Mulch was doing it on purpose, of course, dwarves hate heights. Just then, Mulch let go.

"MULCH!" He had dropped! He had- he-

-had landed on the ledge-with Mona-Mulch had flown through the air and collided with Mona as she fell, landing them both safely relatively safely on the ledge of the window directly underneath the window where Artemis had originally thrown her.

Thrown her. Didn't look. The new glass must have been harder. Should've looked. How hard would it have been to turn his _head?_

Trouble, Trouble would have fallen farther, maybe beyond his reach, Artemis tried to tell himself. Everyone had survived.

Wait- Artemis looked around. Mona and it looked like Mulch, as well, were sobbing in shock. There was a repeated crunching noise as Mona slammed her elbow once, twice, three, four times into the window behind her and it finally gave. She pushed Mulch through, then went through herself.

"Get-to-the-ground", she was saying through gritted teeth. "To the ground, and it'll all be over."

Butler had given an almighty grunt and heaved himself to safety, free of Mulch's weight and with the help of Holly, who was already safe on a ledge. Trouble and Foaly had succeeded in saving Root. Everyone was safe. Everyone had survived.

Which was good, because Artemis himself felt ready to fall out of the air. He might've, if Clara's annoyed voice hadn't suddenly rung out, saying "Enough!" from a gleaming silver elevator inside the building, and the skyscrapers and the fake New York City hadn't started to melt and mush together, re-forming around the seven until they were standing right back where they had been before, staring at Hadrian.

---

People start to figure things out in the next chappie. A little. ;)

The floor is lava,  
Silverfingers.


	17. Dark

Hey, here's the next chapter…don't hate me because it's late? How about a Random Quote?

**Carlton Lassiter**: I need to get something off my chest.  
**Shawn Spencer**: Is it your shirt? Please say no.  
-Psych

--

Hadrian smiled. "Ah." He said. "You have survived once again." He clapped his hands slowly. "But you see, we are only getting-"

"You made the glass harder," said a quiet voice from the back.

"I'm sorry? What was that?"

The group parted to reveal Artemis. "You made the glass harder," he said again. "It grew back harder than it had been the first time that I broke it." Pause.

"_That threw off my calculations."_

It wasn't an accusation. It was a mild enough statement on paper. Hadrian wouldn't even have felt threatened if he hadn't caught the look in the boy's eyes.

Hadrian had seen Foaly's eyes wild with anger, Holly's eyes full of frustration and rage, Root's eyes barely containing smoldering vengeance. This was different. Artemis's eyes were narrowed, his wings were stiff, he was breathing hard but quietly, and he was just standing there looking at Hadrian. But it wasn't just that. He was _looking_ at Hadrian.

"So?" said Hadrian, almost stammering. "We did." He got some of his confidence back. "Nobody said this game would be easy, little human boy." They looked at each other for a moment longer; Artemis nodded and stepped back.

"Clara," Hadrian said later, once the party had left. "Do you know what happened there?"

"Artemis got angry?"

"I mean when he backed away. Do you know why I didn't punish him? It was his eyes," Hadrian continued without waiting for an answer. "I saw as soon as soon as I said the word _game_ that the boy had realized that this is a game and he plays by our rules. So I knew there would be no further confrontations, because obviously he would start to lose hope. You've got to pay attention to their eyes, Clara," Hadrian said softly. "That's where the answers are."

Clara nodded. But inwardly, she was thinking uneasily that the light of realization dawning in Artemis Fowl's eyes probably rarely meant anything good for his opponents.

--

"Are you okay, Artemis?" Butler asked hesitantly. Artemis was leaning against the wall, forehead pressed to its featureless gray stone. Featureless…no cracks, bumps, rough patches, or irregularities…it was like it wasn't even real. But then again, that was to be expected…or was it…?...Artemis had been tired before, but now something more than fatigue was clogging his mind like a fog. For once in his life he had a puzzle, and he wasn't feeling the thrill of success or even the quiet certainty that he would ultimately crack it, no matter how frustrating it was, that he usually felt. The group had stopped behind him, watching him warily. He tried to block out everything except that memory of what Hadrian had just said. The word _game_ had definitely meant something, he had felt his subconscious stirring excitedly at some realization…but he couldn't grasp it. Artemis resisted the urge to punch the wall. A fractured wrist would do no good at this point.

Artemis was startled to feel hands on his shoulder. Not Butler's. He turned, blinking, to see Mona and Holly standing there.

"It's okay, Armani," said Mona. "You just need a rest."

"That's not going to do it!" Artemis said emphatically. "Mona. A rest isn't going to fix this. It's not that I'm tired it's that- that-" with an absolutely superhuman effort, he got the words out. "That I don't know if I can beat this."

There was silence.

"That's okay," said Mona. "I wasn't…I wasn't saying that you needed a rest to figure it out. Nobody expects you to figure it out. I was just saying that you need a rest. It's not your fault none of this makes sense."

Artemis blinked, shut his eyes, and rubbed them furiously. "Mona…say that again."

"Nobody expects you to-"

"No, no," he said, flapping a hand impatiently. "The last sentence."

"None of this makes sense?" Mona repeated, confused at Artemis's sudden mood swing.

Artemis gazed off into the distance.

"Artemis?"

His lips moved soundlessly.

"_Artemis!"_

"None of this makes sense…" he said quietly. The group stared.

--

"_Nownownownow__**now.**_" Clara burst into the room. Hadrian jumped.

"What?"  
"Do the third one now. Start it now. Let's go."

"Why?"

Clara caught her breath. She was giving orders to Hadrian. That was not good. Then again, he thought of her as a rogue…less mannered than a regular Formorian in any case. That might save her. "I think it's best to not give them any more time," she said as evenly as she could.

--

With a grinding noise, the walls began to move. They moved backwards, leaving black, swirling nothingness where they had been, and soon faded out of sight. The furniture seem to have disappeared, the features of the floor became slighter, fading, as the carpet vanished and the gray color of the ground turned darker, too…soon the group, which had instinctively drawn together by the coming adversity, was illuminated finally only by a single torch, hovering in midair. They were standing on blackness, surrounded by blackness. While the rest of the group was staring around in various stages of anger, fear and bewilderment, Artemis chanced a glance at Mona. She had a death grip on his sleeve and was watching the torch without blinking, each flicker of its flame reflected in her wide eyes. Artemis was concerned; hypnosis, possibly?

"Hello," said Clara, stepping from nowhere and wrapping her long, pale fingers around the handle of the torch, which until this point had succeeded quite well at staying up by itself. "How are we all doing?"

Trouble stepped forward menacingly. Holly pulled him back.  
"What is it this time?"

"Find your way out."

"That's it?" asked Trouble. Clara smiled evilly, squeezing the torch a little tighter. Artemis made a connection finally, looking form Mona to Clara.  
"Clara, NO-"

But it was too late. The Formorian had vanished, taking the torch with her, leaving the group stranded in black darkness more complete than anything any of them had ever experienced. Mona let out a long, low cry.  
"What's the matter with her?"

Artemis felt the grip on his sleeve slack as Mona slumped to the ground.

"She's afraid of the dark."

"We just have to find the way out, right?" Holly said. "I think it was-"

"HOLLY! DON'T MOVE!" Trouble near-shouted. There was a silence, which he filled with a breathless tumult of words. "If you wander off..."

"I wasn't going to go anywhere, Trouble," said Holly carefully.

"If you got separated-" Trouble continued wildly. "they might have opened up- canyons, or mud pits, or something in the floor-"  
"I'm right here."

"Let's link arms," said Root at once.

"Butler," said Artemis. "I need you to carry Mona. I don't think she can-"

He was abruptly cut off.

"Artemis?" Butler called, slightly too loud.

"Butler?" said Holly, a nauseating fear hitting her like a giant gripping her throat. "Do you have him?"

"Artemis?" Butler called again, deaf to everything but the sound of his master's voice. Which Butler wasn't hearing.

"Where is he? Artemis?"

"Let's stay calm, people."

The only person not voicing their confusion was Mona. There was a reason for this: Mona was not just afraid of the dark; she was terrified.

Mona wasn't afraid of much. She dealt with snakes, spiders, and Butler without batting an eye. She'd been almost killed three different and unpleasant ways since coming to the demon challenge. But Mona hated the dark, feared the dark, was petrified by it. She was fine with the night-there were always streetlights and starlight and she was fine with movie theaters, but every time somebody flicked off a light switch Mona could feel the panic trying to stir in the back of her head. She could quash it as long as there was some light.

But now, in the most total darkness she had ever seen, she was paralyzed.

_The dark the dark it's back it'll take me the dark it's back oh God it's back back mom I want you daddy where are you oh God someone turn on the lights please please I'll do anything, anything anything anything anything I don't care what oh Artemis it's back_

_Backbackback _Artemis_ back_

_Artemis _Artemis?

Mona raised her head, trembling and tightlipped. As if from a thousand miles away, she heard the chaos breaking out around her. Butler was still bellowing for Artemis, as was Holly; Root was doing his best to get them both to shut up and plan for a second.

She needed Artemis to figure out how to make the dark go away. Artemis was gone, the dark had swallowed him. Beads of sweat rolled freely down her forehead despite the fairly normal temperature and she started to shake harder.

_Clara smiled with satisfaction. The girl was out for the count. _

A thought, the ghost of a thought, made its way into Mona's mind: _you have to do something._ She swallowed. People who live lives blessedly unaffected by irrational fears underestimate their total incapacitating power. She swallowed again, and this time it was easier to maintain the thought: _you have to do something_. But she couldn't think of anything. _Artemis! Find Artemis! He's gone, they stole him._

Now she was less scared because there was only enough room in her head for so much emotion, and another one was growing…anger? She took a shuddering breath as Butler's hoarse shouts were lost in the darkness around her and suddenly it was easier to breathe but she was even madder and she knew she had to find Artemis but she was mad at herself for not being able to think of anything. She heard Holly and the others trying to figure out what to do but they were like headless chickens, they needed _light_ to get anything done.

_What would Artemis think of?_ She thought desperately, and then, slowly, a demonic grin spread across her face. She wasn't Artemis. But in this situation that worked fine, because Artemis would have…used her. Used her flame.

A second later, Clara's eyes widened as she heard the sound she had known she would not…

_Whoosh._

All the shouting, panicked voices stopped and everyone turned to look at Mona, whose arms were on fire. The flickering flames chased back the darkness to a safe distance, except in one place. Clara dared breathe for a second, hoping against hope they wouldn't notice-

-but _of course_, people who are terrified of something are generally the ones who know it best. People afraid of heights know to avoid elevators and window, PTSD-scarred veterans constantly predict a fictional enemy's every move and method, and a girl who is afraid of the dark always knows where it is darkest, so that she can look away. And Mona had spotted, right over her head, the roiling mass of dark that was not receding in the light of her arms. That was because it was busy. Busy trying to feed on a struggling victim. Mona saw the flash of a pale hand within the darkness' depths, and realized at once.

From within the bowels of the shadow creature, Artemis had learned already not to waste time shouting; it appeared to block out noise as well as light. And it was impossible to injure, but nevertheless he kept thrashing, arms head neck legs and wings flailing in an effort to kept from being eaten (assuming he hadn't been already; his limited knowledge of shadow creature consumption and digestion rendered it a distinct possibility that all he was doing was giving the thing a severe case of indigestion) when suddenly he felt a blast of heat and the shadow recoiled, unwrapped itself from around him as it was shoved away by the blessed, blazing light and heat of Mona's fireball, white-hot with her fear and anger.

Artemis fell but never hit the ground; Butler reached up and caught him in a bone-cracking hug. Over the bodyguard's massive shoulder Artemis could see one last tentacle, darker than dark, beating a retreat.

---

Okayy, I got a little lazy and hasty-posty and I guess I didn't really explain anything in this one :O But be assured, Artemis is figuring things out even if you aren't.

No really, he is. That thing Mona said, that's crucial.

The floor is lava,  
Silverfingers.


End file.
